Funeral of A Madman
by Eldritch Hunter
Summary: For the first time in a while, the Valley of Peace lives up to its name. That is, until, a series of villages suddenly go vacant, those living within nowhere to be found. Po and the Five soon discover that a group of five lunatics, cannibals, murderers and sadists are converging on the valley, led by a monstrous entity whose hatred of the living is matched only by his utter madness
1. Prologue

Despite the sun shining bright overhead, the ominous feel in the air could not be contained by any calming techniques that Oogway could think of.

On a day like this, he would have considered meditating beneath the Sacred Peach Tree near the Jade Palace, but he would find no such peace on this afternoon. The sky was painted a pleasant viridian tone, with not a single cloud in the sky to provide an augury of malignant weather. On either sides of the dirt path that the two figure trudged upon was an endless forest of verdant bamboo that seemed to soak in the rays of the ardent sun. It was a truly beautiful day, Oogway thought, but every rose is covered in thorns.

"Master Oogway," the young red panda said beside him. "Why are we going so far away from the Jade Palace?"

The young red panda- Shifu- had been under the tutelage of Grandmaster Oogway for only two years, but he already showed the signs of being a great Kung Fu Master. He learned some advanced techniques so quickly that he shocked even the old tortoise. But all that seemingly natural talent would do him no good now. What they were travelling to fight was perhaps even beyond Oogways capabilities of Kung Fu. He had insisted that Shifu stayed behind at the Palace, but of course the hotheaded youth didn't listen to him. As soon as the Grandmaster had left the palace, Shifu had followed him until Oogway had caught in the act. Unfortunately, they had been too far to turn back then, so he had no choice but to let his student come with him.

The old tortoise had hoped to spare Shifu of what they might find at the end of their journey. Yesterday, he received a grim message from the Guardians of the Urn, thirteen of the greatest Kung Fu masters ever to have lived. Oogway had trained most of them, but their talent had needed little encouragement to blossom. He had honestly expected that nothing would be able to get past them and their advanced techniques. As it turned out, he was wrong.

"There has been a situation at the Taiyang village," Oogway told him, hoping that Shifu would understand what a grave mistake he had made in coming with him. "The thirteen Kung Fu Masters who were guarding a powerful artifact requested that I make haste and travel to assist them. They said that there was a foe besieging them whose skills may outclass their own."

"Are you talking about the Guardians of the Urn? The greatest Kung Fu masters who were chosen to guard a magical jar that contained the dead souls of a madman's army?" Shifu inquired, looking up at his master.

Oogway sighed. Of course the red panda would have caught on to what he was talking about. Mentioning the number thirteen was all the youth needed to make a deduction. "Yes," Oogway said, knowing that Shifu would be able to interpret the cryptic messages that he often hid within his ramblings. There was no point being so enigmatic around this student; he was far too intelligent to be confused by such responses.

"But if they're so powerful, why did they ask for help? Surely they would be strong enough to deal with whatever threat comes their way."

"I know. Even an army couldn't get past them and their skills. That is why I ordered you to stay behind; whatever beleaguers them is surely more dangerous than anything you have faced before."

"I don't know what 'beleaguers' means," the young red panda admitted. "but why didn't you tell us the truth then? I would have listened to you and stayed behind if you hadn't been so mysterious."

They were nearing Taiyang village; Oogway could see the familiar dragon-embossed gate that guarded the entrance. It showed him the memories of the past, him wishing his thirteen best students luck in their endeavour. They had all been so young, confident that they could take whatever might try to break the seal of the tomb and steal the urn. He had also been quite confident in their abilities as well; and now here he was, gazing at the two mutilated corpses hanging from the archway like paper lanterns.

They hadn't been either of the thirteen Oogway had trained; he couldn't help but feel guilty when he breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like they were an ox and a rhino, their skin marred by horrific canyons and craters. Their stomachs had been torn open, intestines hanging out of the gaping black cavern and nailed to the sides of the gate in a spiderweb-like fashion. The elegant golden leaf that the twin dragons on the doors were forged of were stained in blood and other less pleasant bodily fluids. The once sweet-smelling air was now filled with the stench of death. At the sight of this, both master and student froze.

Oogway felt a great dread form in the pit of his belly, something he had never felt. He had felt fear before, when he was a child, but now every instinct in his body screamed at him to get the hell out of there. "What..." Shifu choked out "What?" He could tell that the child was struggling to not vomit at the sight of this atrocity. He was impressed at the child's inner strength; as he examined the corpse, he couldn't help but note- he swallowed the bile that almost rose up his throat- that the bodies looked as though someone had eaten part of them before stringing them up.

"We must go in," Oogway told Shifu. "You must be prepared for whatever horror awaits us within. I imagine that whatever did this is still here." His young student nodded rapidly, clearly afraid that if he responded in words, he would throw up. "Are you alright?" he added, but he realized what a stupid question it was to ask. If anyone was alright after seeing something like this, something was broken inside of him. It didn't take a genius to guess that it was only going to be worse inside the village.

Oogway slammed the ground with his staff, the shockwave causing the fleshy intestines to tear and the corpses to fall to the ground. "We have no time to give them a proper burial now," he said to the young red panda. "We must answer the Guardian's plea. We will lay them to rest afterwards." He stepped over the corpses, slightly pushing open the defiled gate and looking through the tiny crack. Though there was little he could see through the limited viewpoint, the stench was magnified a thousandfold. He was right; it was definitely worse inside the village. Steeling himself, he pushed open the gate.

Blood everywhere. It was unlike anything the Grandmaster had ever seen in all his years. Everyone in the village had been slaughtered, their corpses carelessly thrown into piles in the middle of the cobblestone street. Whoever did this hadn't just killed them; they had taken the time to personally mutilate every single body before or after death into an unrecognizable state. His vast wisdom almost failed him for an instant; his knees shook but he steadied them, refusing to show weakness in front of Shifu. The dread he felt was gradually replaced by a fury that did not befit one of his stature. These people were innocents; they had no combat training, no reason to have been massacred in such a terrible way.

"Master Oogway, I think-" Shifu started, coming up behind his mentor, before stopping suddenly, catching sight of the horror that lay beyond the elegant gateway. Oogway didn't want Shifu to come because he thought he would be in danger, but now he wished that he could have spared him this image that would surely haunt him for the rest of his life, as it surely would him. There were some retching sounds behind him as the child's strong stomach gave out and he vomited. He could hardly blame him. No child should ever have to bear witness to this.

Oogway broke into a run, knowing that this was probably the worst thing he could do, but he was terrified for the well-being of his former students. The wounds on the bodies didn't look like they were made by many different people with different weapons, they looked as though it had been committed by only one, with no weapon that he had ever seen before. He had to carefully manoeuvre around the mounds of corpses, but there was nothing he could do to avoid stepping in the blood and leaving footprints. Shifu tried to keep up with him, but he couldn't stop looking around at all of the corpses with a look of horror on his face,so he lagged behind a few paces.

The entrance to the temple where the urn was kept was at the end of the street, the lion-dog statues that stood sentinel on either side of the door splattered in blood. They had been constructed to act as guardians for the artifact that lay within, but they evidently hadn't served their purpose that well. The gates were thrown wide open, and as Oogway and Shifu looked through, his breath caught in his throat at what lay within.

All of his former students had been killed, in even more gruesome ways than the rest of his village. However, Oogway couldn't see how disfigured they were, because they had been arranged in a mound, and there was a tall, dark figure sitting on top of them like some kind of macabre throne.

He was hideous; similar to a mountain goat, but he looked far too tall and emaciated to be one. He had no cheeks or lips, so his rotting teeth were bared for the world to see. Two decrepit, curved horns jutted out the top of his forehead, in a very different way than a mountain goats should be. His fur was gray and strawlike, almost like a corpse's, and he wore heavy black robes that obfuscated his entire body save his head. He was skeletal thin; even his garb couldn't disguise that, but despite this he sat up straight, proud, on his throne of Oogway's slaughtered students.

"Why hello there," The monster's eyes widened and so did his cadaveric smile. One of his eyes bulged out alarmingly far, and then the black body of a segmented worm came out from beneath the eyelid, groping around blindly before disappearing back into his skull. He carried on like he didn't even notice it. "I knew you would come. The worms knew; they see, you understand. The worms told me you were coming." His voice was raspy and sounded full of phlegm. It reminded Oogway, for some reason, of a coffin filled with worms. The madness in his eyes could have turned a cutthroat's blood to ice.

"You monster," Oogway said, the burning fury in his heart mixing with cold fear. "Why would you do such a thing to these people?"

"They refused to return my army to me," The monster growled gutturally, "so I drowned them in a bloody deluge."

"Who are you?" Oogway tried to not allow a quaver to creep into his voice, but he was uncertain if he succeeded or not. The mere presence of this creature was terrifying, like being a mouse trapped with a dragon.

"Oh, I've been called so many different things over the centuries, one can hardly be expected to remember them all. Most people call me 'Ahhh! A monster!' And run away screaming." He chuckled darkly to himself.

"Your name!" Oogway roared, his patience gained through decades of conditioning falling away. He knew he shouldn't be acting like this in front of his student, but thirteen of the greatest masters in China shouldn't have been killed by this one... thing. "What is your name!?"

"Ah, yes, my name," he said. "You may call me Xiedu Dehua, god of the worms that feast on the dead. It is a pleasure to meet you, Grandmaster Oogway. Although I wasn't expecting you to have such an outburst when you came to visit. The worms told me your patience was so great that you could watch mountains grow and streams be formed.

"This urn," Xiedu Dehua raised it high in the air, interrupting Oogway as soon as he opened his mouth to speak again "contains the dead souls of my army, or rather, the army that this fragile body led when I was mortal. I will need them in the future."

Oogway felt a chill run down his spine. For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid. General Xiedu Dehua had died almost five hundred years ago, executed by the emperor at the time for the atrocities he committed in war. His strategic brilliance had made him one of the most feared generals in all of China. The men he ruled were notorious for being almost as cruel and sadistic as he. It was because of this they were mired in the urn, bound by seals similar to the ones he had built to contain the demons of the underworld. Nothing less was powerful enough to contain them.

"That urn was locked away in this temple for a reason," Oogway said. "You will doom this world if you smash it."

"Oh, will I?" A worm crept out from Xiedu Dehua's mouth and ran its length over his decaying teeth. Oogway realized that it served as a gruesome substitute for a tongue. "These men, when they lived, were my soldiers, loyal and steadfast. They will listen to me." He tossed the urn to Oogway, who desperately caught it before it could hit the ground and shatter. Suspecting a trap, he raised his staff threateningly and pointed it at Xiedu Dehua's heart.

"But I have no need of them now. I have waited five centuries to get them back, what's another century of plotting and scheming?" He stood up and shambled down to the ground, seemingly unsteady on his hooves. "Take good care of it for me, would you? If it breaks, the spirits within will rage across the world, destroying all life in their path. It will be troublesome for me to round them all up again," he said as he walked past Oogway and Shifu, who seemed paralysed. At the entrance to the temple, he turned around and met the old Grandmaster's eyes.

"Keep it safe and sound like good little slaves, until I come to collect what is mine."


	2. Arrival

"Aw, c'mon Tigress, why not?"

"I'm not going to get involved in your little prank war with Monkey, Po."

"But he'll never expect you to help me!" Po argued.

"Apparently Monkey has some common sense." Tigress responded. They were walking up the thousand steps that led to the Jade Palace, the refulgent sun painting their shadows all the way down to the bottom. They had just returned from escorting a wealthy merchant down a well-used trade route, and both had been surprised at how quiet it had been. Not a single bandit had ambushed them, no vagabonds or brigands attempting to steal the valuable merchandise that the merchant had hired them to protect. In fact, apart from an old goat hurrying down the path as though he were being chased, they hadn't even seen anyone else. Tigress had tried asking the goat what he was running from, but he hadn't even slowed, carrying on as fast as his antediluvian bones could take him. They never found what was chasing him.

"Come on, please? I promise that it will be on a whole new level of awesome."

"How is 'no' such a hard word to understand?" Tigress's patience had long since been shorn away. The entire journey Po had been pestering her to join in his childish prank war, and he only relented to eat a handful of dumplings he had brought along the way. How the panda could even find so many different ways to try to convince her was astounding. Every method he used only succeeded in getting on her nerves more and more. He probably wasn't going to stop until she agreed, either. The panda's persistence was both admirable and incredibly irritating.

"But Tigress-" Po was about to start again, but then he let out a loud gasp. They had reached the top of the stairs, and the suddenness with which he had stopped caused Tigress to take up an immediate defensive stance. She relaxed when she saw his expression; it was a look of utter joy.

"Did I... just make it up the stairs... without getting out of breath?" Po managed to get out through the gag of his shock. His grin doubled in its width. "AWESOME! I guess all that training is starting to finally pay off. Stairs, you will never again trouble the bodacious Dragon Warrior!" He punched the air with a clenched fist, in his excitement not looking where he threw it. Tigress caught it a second before it spiked her in the face and forced her to turn him inside-out. Po's eyes widened and his grin turned sheepish. "Sorry. Guess I should have been paying attention. Still, this is awesome! Pretty soon I'm gonna be able to shoot fireballs out of my eyes, and control all of the five elements!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Po. You've just walked up a few stairs."

"And," he carried on like she hadn't said anything. "I'll be able to hear a spider spinning its web, and see through walls, and-"

"Po, give it a rest. You should have been able to get up those stairs without having someone carry you a long time ago."

"Trust you to take the joy out of such a great accomplishment." Po said a little sulkily. He stayed behind Tigress as she pushed open the gates and stepped out into the courtyard in front of the palace. With the blinding sun glinting off of the jade pillars that supported the tremendous weight of the building, they seemed to have an opalescent tint to them. There were a few puffy clouds in the sky, giving off a nacreous glimmer from the storms that had besieged the Valley of Peace for the last few days. Though the air had relinquished the scent of the rain, there were still puddles gathered in every dip in the ground that could carry water. Curiously, the courtyard was empty.

"Strange," Tigress murmured. "At this time, everyone should be out here practising their techniques. Perhaps they're using the training hall instead."

"I guess we're gonna find out." Po said, walking over to the massive front doors of the palace. Before he could even touch them, they swung open, hitting him in the face and knocking him on his ass. "Ow," he said, rubbing his nose and looking up at who had done that. It was the Furious Five, heading out of the cool shade of the interior into the sun. Go figure.

"Po, Tigress, you're back." Monkey was the first to greet them. "How did the mission go? Did you encounter any trouble along the way?"

"Hi, Monkey. No, it was actually pretty peaceful. No bandits or anything. I guess they were all to scared to face the bodaciously awesome Dragon Warrior and Master Tigress." Po said, about to punch the air to add emphasis to his words again. Tigress glared a warning at him with eyes of amber fire, demons dancing in the flames. He realized that he probably shouldn't do that when people were standing two feet in front of him; it could have negative consequences.

"It was _too_ quiet," Tigress interjected. "We only ran into one other person on the road, but they were in a hurry."

"Man, that does sound pretty weird," Mantis said. "Peace, in the Valley of Peace? Preposterous!" He laughed at his own joke. Tigress didn't.

"It's strange; over the past few weeks, there have been no bandits, no crimes and no unrest. I know it should be a good thing, but this doesn't seem natural. It's almost like they've been chased off by something." Tigress mused

"That might be our fault," Crane said, "we do tend to wipe the streets with anyone who stirs up trouble. Maybe they've finally figured out why they always have to pick up their teeth with broken fingers."

"Yeah," Po agreed "it's about time that they started realizing that crime's only gonna cause them pain."

"Where's Master Shifu?" Tigress suddenly asked. She felt the need to share her concerns with the master of the Jade Palace. Perhaps he would have noticed the strange disappearance of criminals in the Valley.

"He went to meditate under the Sacred Peach Tree," Crane said. "I guess you have to go make your report?"

"Yes," answered Tigress, "come on, Po."

"Can't we at least grab a snack or something before we do that?" Po asked, rubbing his sizable belly as it let out an equally tremendous growl.

"No."

They found the master of the Jade Palace exactly where Crane had said he would be; sitting in a lotus position beneath the peach tree. The blossoms were in full bloom now, and it almost seemed like it was raining pink around Shifu and over the cliff, accenting the beautiful vista that the tree overlooked. He was breathing in deeply, then exhaling the air in one go to allow his body to relax into a trance.

"Tigress, panda, I see you have returned." Master Shifu spoke, not even opening his eyes or turning around.

"Isn't it creepy how he always knows when we're here?" Po whispered to Tigress. She ignored him and bowed to her master, the giant panda beside her mirroring her a second after.

"I trust the mission was a success?"

"Yes, master," Tigress said, "there were no attacks or other liabilities in our mission."

"Odd." Shifu opened his eyes and stood with the aid of the grandmaster's staff, turning to face his students. "The merchant said that there were many bandits who wanted whatever it was he was carrying. But then again, he had been very secretive about it. Perhaps he allowed his paranoia to get the better of him."

"I thought it was rather puzzling as well," Tigress agreed. She hesitated. "Master Shifu, have you noticed the utter absence of any criminals in the Valley for the past few weeks?"

"Indeed. I have been keeping my eyes and ears open for any hints as to what might be causing this. There seems to be no indication."

"I think you guys are just being to paranoid for your own good," Po said with the utmost confidence. "You know, like Crane said, they probably caught on to how they weren't getting anything out of robbing people in the Valley of Peace."

"Do you really think someone like Fung would be that smart?" Tigress said to him. Po scratched the back of his head.

"Y'know, there's more bandits than just the crocs..."

"Which is exactly why this is so curious." Shifu interrupted. "I had hoped that this matter would have been resolved by now, but it might be the time to tell you about this."

"What?" Po and Tigress asked at the same time. He obviously wasn't talking about the bandits anymore.

"At the same time the criminals seem to have vanished, three villages have gone entirely vacant. Nothing was stolen, but there were signs of a struggle in every case. Kung Fu masters from all around China were dispatched to get to the bottom of this mystery, but none have returned. They, too, vanished along with all the villagers. I hoped that the two of you would have been able to find clues as to what transpired, but it seems there are none. As you already know, many of the bandits who besieged the Valley were from neighbouring villages."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA," Po said, holding up his hands. "Villages disappearing? Along with any Kung Fu masters sent to them?"

"That's what I said, panda." Shifu replied with faint annoyance.

"This sounds like a job for the Dragon Warrior and the Furious Five!" Po exclaimed. "Don't you worry one bit, Shifu, we are already on-"

Shifu held up a finger, causing Po to shut his mouth and listen. Tigress suddenly heard it too; wings flapping frantically as though all the demons in the underworld were chasing them.

"Zeng," Shifu said in greeting. The goose landed in a heap between the three masters. He looked dishevelled, his gray feathers sticking out all over the place as though he had flown for days without rest. He was panting so hard that it was a few moments before he could speak.

"Master Shifu..." he wheezed, trying to stand up. "Another village has had all of its people vanish. The emperor himself has even begun to notice. He has ordered you to find what's causing this as soon as possible."

"Another village?" Shifu gasped. "That's the fourth one now. The fact that the emperor himself would take a personal interest in this matter..."

"I am ready to leave at once, master." Tigress said, causing Po's head to drop.

"I guess that means I won't be able to get any snacks, then." Po's dejected voice was tiredly forced through his teeth. "If only we'd stopped at the noodle shop beforehand..."

"I will get the rest of the five to meet in the Hall of Heroes." Shifu said, beginning to walk away down the path to the palace. "You two would do well to also be present."

Po and Tigress looked at each other. It was unsettling, she thought, at how those villages could have vacant with not the slightest piece of evidence as to where everyone went. Her worry was clearly reflected in the giant panda's face. Neither of them had never heard of anything like this happening before, and though she contained it well, a slight shudder ran down her spine at the thought of whatever could be causing this.

"I, uh, guess we should go meet them, then." Po said nervously. Tigress only curtly nodded. On their way back to the Jade Palace, many theories began to form in her head. Perhaps the villagers had simply moved to another location due to dying crops? But then she discounted the thought right away. There would be no reason for them to do that; with all the rain that had fallen over the past few days, their crops should be flourishing. A truly puzzling mystery indeed. It was also her responsibility to get to the bottom of this.

When the two of them reached the designated meeting place, they found the other members of the Furious Five already assembled. The formidable jade pillars that prevented the ceiling from caving in above their heads were glinting darkly in the dim light. Master Shifu was standing in front of the sacred pool where the dragon scroll had previously been suspended over, his hands behind his back. The gold reptilian on the ceiling seemed to be leering down at them all, its blank eyes threatening them with cruel visions of their demise. He had just finished informing the others about the new development.

"There's no way that many people could just disappear like that." Viper said, the look on her face suggesting a restrained dread within.

"Nonetheless, it has happened. We must depart immediately for the village. I will go myself, along with the rest of you. Po and Tigress, however, will remain here."

" _What?_ " The two of them shouted at the same time. "Master, with all due respect..." Tigress began, but Shifu cut her off.

"The disappearances have been in an apparent path. This most recent case has been in a village very close to the Valley of Peace. If whatever is causing this is as methodical as they appear, then it is likely that they might come here next. Besides, the two of you just returned from an arduous journey. I imagine that you could use the rest. Don't let your guard down for a second, though. We don't know what happened to those people, but we don't want to find out the hard way. Vigilance is key here."

"I..." Tigress wanted to argue; the thought of having Po trying to convince her to join his prank war for a few more days was more frightening than the thought of being a victim to whatever was taking the villagers. "I understand, Master Shifu."

"Good. I trust that you will ensure Po doesn't cause any trouble while we are away."

"Trouble?" Po said, offended.

"I will, master." Tigress said, glaring at the panda, who gulped and nodded. "Yup, I won't be getting into any trouble. None at all. Nosirree." Even if Po was the Dragon Warrior, one of her threatening looks from those amber eyes could be very intimidating. He really didn't want to give her an excuse to unsheathe her claws and use them against him. Not that she would, but it was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

"We will not need to pack for a long-term trip," Shifu said "as this village is very close. If all goes well, we should be back here in only two days time. Go pack your bags with haste, and let us be on our way. I will be waiting for you all at the bottom of the stairs."

The masters Shifu had chosen quickly departed for the barracks without so much as a whisper. The red panda slowly began walking towards the doors of the Jade Palace. "Good luck on your trip." Po called after him. Shifu turned around and nodded at them, bid them farewell, and vanished from sight as he began the descent down the thousand steps. Just then, Po's stomach let out a tremendous growl.

"So," he said. "Are we gonna get something to eat, or what?"


	3. The Gathering

The others caught up with Shifu after he had waited at the bottom of the steps for approximately three minutes. They came in a hurry, all carrying burlap rucksacks that had clearly only been filled with the bare essentials that they would require for the walk. The sun, which had been shining so brightly before, was now obscured by a single massive cloud, as though the gods themselves were annoyed with its glare. The sky had become a tapestry of blue, white and gray, a masterpiece constructed by a skilled artisan.

"Good, you didn't waste any time." Shifu said, nodding his head approvingly to his students. "Let us be on our way, and quickly."

"Yes, Master Shifu," they all replied in unison. The Valley of Peace wasn't exactly a massive place, and they all knew their way around it well, so the departure from its embrace was a rather short one. The clouds moved and shifted along in their endless journey, and the sun would make fleeting glances between the shrouds. As they travelled through a great forest of bamboo, its blazing radiance was dimmed by the unending green stalks.

 _We should be there soon,_ thought Shifu, taking another glance at the sky. It was beginning to darken, and he realized that they had already been travelling for a few hours. In his pondering about what they would find in the village, he hadn't been paying very much attention to the time of day. It would soon be dark; he hoped that they would be able to reach the village before the land was consumed by it. The lengthening shadows cast by the bamboo emanated a sinister feel, like the bony hands of some ravenous demon.

"What do you think we'll find at the end of this, master?" Viper asked, giving voice to his own treacherous thoughts. He truly didn't know; but he was certain that it wouldn't be pleasant. That was why he wanted to get there as quickly as possible; whatever was doing this might still be in the village. Perhaps it was demons, or the Jiang Shi again? Shifu shook his head. If it were them, there would have been corpses, but nothing had been discovered in any of the villages that had gone vacant. That damn panda was beginning to infect his way of thinking with his damn overactive imagination.

"I can't be certain," he responded after a long moment "as none of the previous masters sent have returned. We can only wait and see."

"If someone's been sent to every village, won't they be expecting more Kung Fu masters?" Mantis asked from his position on Monkey's right shoulder.

"It is likely," Shifu admitted, "but we have no choice. The emperor of all China has commissioned us, and we must obey. If we don't, it will be considered an act of treason, and the fate of a traitor is death. But I am confident that we can handle whatever we come across, if we do. We follow the same path that Oogway once tread upon. It will be alright." He couldn't help but think, with no small amount of fear, of that terrible day over fifty years ago...

"We're here." Monkey said, causing all five of them to stop suddenly. This village was one of the wealthier ones, with stone walls and an intricately designed gate. There were no mutilated corpses hanging from the archway; Shifu breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's go." He said to the others, walking forward towards the gate. It was eerily silent; the only thing that broke it were their footsteps and the tapping of his Grandmaster staff on the dirt road.

There was a small stain on the gate; upon close inspection Shifu came to the conclusion that it wasn't red paint. "Blood," he said to himself. He looked back to his students. "It seems to have only just dried, as well. We might not be too late." The gates were slightly open, and he pushed them wide and stepped through. It was just as silent and eerie as it had been outside the walls; the only reminders that a person had that they were in the same world was the foreboding dread that was beginning to form. The sky had filled quickly with clouds, and the overcast sky gave everything an almost decrepit appearance, like the faded epitaph on an ancient headstone.

They pressed forward, slowly, carefully, keeping their eyes peeled for any movement, anything at all. There was some evidence of multiple struggles; they passed a vendor's stall that had been destroyed, the wood splintered and scattered across the ground. There were some drops of blood out in the street, as well; as they progressed further, the drops became puddles of crimson. "What in the hell happened here?" Mantis asked. No one responded.

Suddenly Shifu's ears twitched; he heard a strange sound coming from deeper in the village. It sounded like a flute, whittling an ice-knife tune up and down his spine. It wasn't a Chinese musical instrument, that was for sure. It was an ominous, primordial crescendo that reverberated through the air like waves of heat on a desert. The others heard it too. "Crane," Shifu spoke to the bird standing behind them. Fly up and try to find the source of the sound. Just be careful that you are not seen."

"On it," Crane said, taking flight. He stayed low over the rooftops so that he would have some cover, and quickly vanished from sight. They waited for what felt like an eternity, anxiously awaiting for their friends return. It felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, when Crane appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. He was gliding, because his impressive wingspan would make a great deal of noise if he flapped them.

"There's people here; lots of them." Crane said breathlessly. "I couldn't get any closer without being seen."

"Then let's be quick; we have little time to waste." Shifu said. The five of them moved as quickly as they could without making any noise, with Crane leading the way. Upon entering a dark alleyway that reeked of piss and garbage, two voices came from very close by.

"What the hell is wrong with these people?" One of them said. It was a young man's voice, laced with a slight fear that he couldn't hide with his poor attempt to sound older.

"It's not our place to question their actions," another said, this one gruffer, hoarser. "We're only here to follow their orders, and get paid for it. We can't-"

Suddenly Shifu leaped out of hiding, hitting both of the large figures on the head so hard that they fell to the ground, unconscious. They were both water buffalo, predictably enough. He knew what they were; mercenaries. Not long ago, a ronin clam from Japan had hired these same men in an attempt to take over China. Like every other villain who had tried, it had ended disastrously for them. Now here they were again, still taking dirty odd jobs for people.

"Nice," Mantis said as he leaped of of Monkey's shoulder. The Furious Five who came with Shifu all looked more than ready for combat.

"Let's go," Shifu said, taking off through the alley with his students close behind.

"It looked like they were gathering right about-" Crane began as he struggled to keep up. Running fast wasn't exactly a flying bird's strong suit. They stopped, for they had reached the end of the alleyway. A wide open space greeted them, with a small well set in the centre. There was at least ten mercenaries milling about around it, as though they were uneasy. He soon saw why; three large wagons were set side by side, and stacked high with bloody corpses. "-here."

There was what looked to be a massive pile of black fur on the ground beside the wagons, and there was one of the strangest figures any of them had ever seen sitting on top of it. He was a leopard, his tawny golden fur meticulously groomed. He wore an odd tribal mask carved from wood, the eyeholes mere black holes in the rising gloom. There was a rucksack strapped to his back, with sticks jutting out from it in all directions. A wide assortment of eyeballs, skulls, bones and other obtuse body parts were tied to them. He was shirtless, wearing only a long skirt that looked to be made of skin, and was playing a flute carved from a large bone through a small, round hole in the mask where his mouth was.

"Hey, you five!" One of the mercenaries had spotted them, the rest turning to see the red panda and his students standing at the mouth of the alley. "And like that, our cover is blown." Crane muttered before the mercenaries descended upon them. They were no stronger than any other killers-for-hire they had fought before, and despite their superior numbers, the five of them easily prevailed. Shifu was almost going to stand back and let the other four deal with them, but he wouldn't be a very good master if he did that. So he leaped into action, kicking one of the mercenaries in the chest, causing the rhino to go flying back and knock over three more.

As Shifu watched, Mantis quickly jumped on the three fallen mercenaries, hitting all their pressure points to ensure they didn't get up again and applying the same paralysing technique to another one that came running up behind him. The others were faring just as well as he had, and before their adversaries could even process what had happened, they were lying on the ground, unable to stand and fight anymore. When they were sure that they wouldn't get up again, the five of them turned to face the leopard sitting on the massive mound of fur.

He hadn't moved in the slightest through the fight, save for the light motion of his fingers as he expertly played his flute. He ended his eerie song with a long, slow note and put it away with a sigh. "And like that, the magic is lost." He said. His voice carried with it a strange accent, one that stirred a faint memory from long ago in Shifu's mind- African. "I presume that you came here to be my next batch of corpses? Fitting." He stood with a dreamlike slowness, and Shifu noticed that he was wearing a belt, on which dozens of what appeared to be mangled papers were attached to on long strings. He took a step closer, and he saw that those things were actually... faces. Faces of many different species, other leopards, rhinos, many even he didn't recognize, cut off and stitched to his belt as gruesome trophies.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself." The leopard said as he took a few steps forward with a strange, lurching gait. "My name is Dubaku, former Vodun priest of the Ewe people." He gestured towards the wagons filled with the corpses of the slaughtered villagers. "This, this is the fate that you will soon share."

"You are a monster." Shifu growled, the first words he had spoken since the alley. This was strangely familiar; a lot like that fateful day that haunted his dreams for the past fifty or so years. He pushed the thought down. This was a completely unrelated matter, one that they would soon solve.

"What's with all this racket?" A voice like thunder boomed. The mound of fur that had been motionless before suddenly raised a massive head, before standing up. That 'mound of fur' was actually the biggest gorilla any of them had ever seen, easily double the height and girth of any others. He had to be at least twenty feet tall, wearing a bloody chef's apron that couldn't conceal the knotted muscle beneath. His eyes were completely bloodshot, and he carried a massive cleaver that was almost as tall as he was. His lips drew back to reveal a mouthful of massive teeth, the fangs large and prominent.

"Dubaku..." He snarled. "Let me kill them. Kill them all!" He raised his cleaver high in the air, ready to bring it down upon them.

"Not a chance, Shi Renzu," Dubaku said, turning to face his comrade. "Do you think I can carry three wagons filled with dead bodies? That is your task. We cannot risk any damage to the corpses, or they will become useless."

"I don't care." The behemoth known as Shi Renzu said, his voice dripping with hunger. "I must feed."

Quicker than the eye could follow, Dubaku was on top of the gorilla's head, digging his claws into his eyelids and pulling them up, causing his eyes to roll back into his head. "Have you forgotten what the Master commissioned us to do?" He hissed in Shi Renzu's ear. "We need these bodies. All of them. And if you will not follow the orders, he will devour both of us while we still live. Take the bodies, and give me my spear. I will deal with them."

The gorilla snarled when the African leopard released him and jumped off of his head, landing lightly on his feet. Dubaku held up his hand, and Shi Renzu stopped his growl mid-breath and handed him a weapon that he pulled out from under one of the wagons. It was a spear, the shaft of which was the spine of a massive beast- an elephant, perhaps?- and levelled it forwards, towards the five who stood against them. The head of the spear was the shoulder blade of presumably the same victim who had its spine ripped out, ground down on both sides to a deadly sharpness.

"Go on." Dubaku said over his shoulder. Shi Renzu produced a rope from one of the wagons and tied it to the back of the same one and attached the other end to the belt that held his apron in place. He grabbed the other two wagons by the bottom and charged off down a street with a swiftness that shouldn't be possible, considering the burden he was carrying. "Viper, Crane, Monkey, Mantis." Shifu said in a low voice. "Do not let him escape. I will deal with matters here." The four of them took off after the massive gorilla, and within seconds it was just the red panda and Dubaku standing there, facing each other.

"We are alone now. All alone," the leopard said, and Shifu didn't need to see his face to know he was smiling. "Let us begin the dance of the spirits." 

The walk down the thousand steps was much more painful than the ascent. By the time Po and Tigress reached the bottom, the panda was dragging himself down with his hands, his panting likely audible throughout the Valley and beyond. "Go on... without me," Po wheezed up to the feline who was looking down at him through narrowed eyes. "Tell my dad... that I died a warrior's death." He buried his face down into the road and didn't move.

Tigress sighed and knelt down next to him. "Po," she said, causing the giant panda's head to slowly rise and meet her gaze. She extended one hand towards him and he gratefully took it, allowing her to hoist him up to his feet. "Thanks." he said when he was standing again. "Now, onward to the noodle-" Something hit him in the face, not hard enough to knock him down, but enough to interrupt his sentence. It obscured his vision and he snatched it off before the object could do him any harm. It was a poster, with a brightly coloured font and a fascinating chatoyant background. It depicted a white-faced saki monkey wearing a top hat and an immaculate black suit, with wires running from between his fingers that led to two incredibly realistic wooden puppets on either side of him.

 _Behold, the amazing Puppet Master!_ The bright blue font beneath the monkey said. _Prepare for the show of your life, as his puppetry skills will leave you in disbelief! This is a once in a lifetime show, be sure you don't miss it! Tonight is the only night the great Sârmă of Wallachia will be in the Valley of Peace!_

"Whoa..." Po breathed "This looks so unbelievably awesome." He held it up so Tigress could have a look at it. She studied the poster for a moment, and then frowned. "Strange." She mused, "I didn't know that there were monkeys in Wallachia. Especially not that kind."

"Aw, come on!" Po said, causing Tigress to shoot a questioning look at him. "The most awesomest thing to probably ever come to the Valley of Peace since you and the Furious Five makes an appearance, and that's the first thing you say about it?"

"I find it interesting, that's all," she said without the slightest show of interest. She continued walking, for a few steps before realizing Po wasn't following her. He was staring at the poster with a thoughtful expression. "Po? Are you coming?" He didn't respond for a moment. "Po? Weren't we going to the noodle shop?"

"I _have_ to see this." Po declared, waving the poster at her, ignoring her words. "It says it's a once in a lifetime show! I will not miss something this awesome. And neither will you. You're coming with me."

Tigress took a step towards him. "Three villages have gone vacant in the last few weeks, and a fourth one in the last couple of days. No one knows if any of those people are still alive. Master Shifu thinks that whatever did this will come here next, and you want to go watch an old man play with puppets?"

"Well..." Po began, but realized that that was exactly what he wanted to do. "Yes."

"Forget it. Do you want to have the Valley of Peace wind up like those villages? We must keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary."

"Like an old man who plays with puppets?" Po said with a grin. "We'll be able to keep watch on the Valley much easier down here than up at the Jade Palace. And we get to see something awesome at the same time! What could possibly go wrong?"

Tigress opened her mouth to argue, but then realized that he did have a point. She had never heard of this 'Puppet Master' before, but she had heard of some terrible things that transpired in Wallachia. Watching this 'Sârmă' character's every move to ensure that he wasn't responsible for the disappearances would be a wise idea. _Vigilance is key here,_ Shifu's words came unbidden back to her mind. If there was a disturbance in the Valley of Peace, the two of them could react much quicker to it if they were already in it, rather than waiting for danger to reach them up at the Palace.

"Alright, panda." Tigress said with a sigh, knowing that he would pester her until she agreed anyways. "I'll go with you to this puppet show, but only if you'll stop your prank war with Monkey."

"Prank war? Oh, yeah, forgot about that. Guess this Puppet Master takes your mind off of humiliating one of your best friends. Alright, I won't bother you with it anymore." Po said. Tigress couldn't help but notice that he didn't say anything about stopping it altogether. At least it wouldn't be her concern if they got into trouble with Shifu. That was a decent start, she supposed.

"Then we should hurry up and go to the noodle shop, before something else shiny catches your eye."

"Sounds like a plan," Po agreed. He hesitated for a moment. "Where the hell is Wallachia?"

 _This is going to be a long day,_ thought Tigress as they continued along their path.


	4. Insanity

Shifu eyed Dubaku cautiously, waiting for him to make the first move. The African leopard had his strange bone-spear held before him, still as a statue. In fact, the only part of his body that moved were his eyes, darting back and forth to presumably scan him for any weaknesses. He showed none. It was rather unnerving; he almost didn't even seem to breathe. "The steel in your heart is impressive," Dubaku said, his yellow eyes flashing beneath his tribal mask. "But will it be enough to stand against the might of Mawu?"

Shifu said nothing, still watching the leopard for the slightest movement. Then, before his mind could even comprehend it, Dubaku vanished. The red panda ducked as he felt the rush of wind and saw the weaponized shoulder blade pass where his head had been a second before. Then, in the blink of an eye, the battle had begun. Blow matched for blow, and Shifu was astounded at the sheer speed and ferocity of his adversary's attack. The bone-spear was just a blur as it darted towards his eyes, arms, body, but he was able to deflect them. Just.

The grandmaster couldn't help but notice that the leopard was aiming for vital spots, ones that would kill slowly and painfully; the stomach, nerves, liver, anywhere death wouldn't be instant, but inevitable. If he didn't have a lifetime of harsh training under his belt, he would have been hacked to ribbons and bleeding out beneath the uncaring sky. His staff was moving faster than it ever had before to block his blows, each impact against the ironlike spine sending a jarring shockwave through his arm. _Even Tai Lung hadn't been this fast,_ Shifu thought, leaping over the spear as Dubaku executed a broad swing. _He also didn't have this long of a reach._

Fortunately, such bold moves always had significant risks. The African leopard stumbled as the swing threw him off balance. Shifu pressed his advantage, lunging forward with his staff aimed for a nerve, aiming to paralyse his antagonist. But of course, Dubaku arched his back, taking a blow to his shoulder, but otherwise not causing him harm. He didn't show even the slightest bit of pain, but that small window gave Shifu an opportunity. In one second, he had gone from the offensive to defensive.

"I did not expect such power from one so old." Dubaku snarled as he deflected every blisteringly fast blow with his spear.

"And I did not expect such skill from a follower of the Vodun." Shifu shot back as he pressed his attack. The leopard's movement wasn't impeded by the large rucksack that he carried on his back, although he did seem desperate to protect one of the fetishes that were hanging from the sticks- a feline skull. He thrust the impressive length of his spear out with surprising control, given the equally ferocious attack that Shifu had besieged him with.

"Do not mock the Vodun." Was Dubaku's response, his voice darkening in fury. He threw his spear with appalling accuracy at the red panda, who caught it one-handed before it impaled him in the sternum and threw it with aim that was just as deadly. The African leopard dodged and his own weapon flew over his shoulder, narrowly missing his throat. He was unarmed, now. Dubaku let out a snarl and unsheathed his claws, waiting for Shifu to attack again. The grandmaster leaped forward, feinting to the left with his fist and making a real strike aimed at the skull over his shoulder he'd been struggling to ensure no harm came to. It knocked it off and sent the bone flying off of his rucksack and somewhere behind him.

"No!" Dubaku cried out, his voice hoarse with anger- and was that anguish?- and he dove backward to retrieve it. He grabbed the skull and gently cradled it like a baby. "Do not be afraid," he whispered to the lifeless bone. "You are safe with me. I will never let anything hurt you." Shifu was so surprised by his cruel enemy's loving treatment of the skull. So surprised that he didn't see Dubaku pick up his spear again and lunge at him. But not before depositing the skull safely within his rucksack.

"You will pay for that!" The leopard roared. "You will know endless torment at the hands of the spirits!" His foot knocked Shifu down with his claws unsheathed, gouging a deep wound in his shoulder. Before he could get back to his feet, Dubaku leaped onto his chest, pressing all his weight down onto him and pushing the point of the spear into his jugular.

"Now, let death claim your soul at last!"

Chasing the monstrous gorilla through the forest of bamboo was probably one of the easiest things Monkey had ever had to do. If the path of destroyed bamboo weren't an obvious enough hint, then the trail of blood left by the corpses he was dragging were. He was leaping through the stalks with impressive agility, while Crane flew above them, trying to catch up to Shi Renzu. Viper and Mantis had taken to the ground, their small sizes allowing them to move through the undergrowth with astounding agility and subtlety.

"Someone that big shouldn't be able to go so fast!" Monkey grumbled as he carried on his pursuit. This was taking far longer than it should have; he could hear the laboured panting of their quarry as he raced through the forest, flattening all the bamboo before him without even the slightest pause. If Monkey's memory was good, then they should be nearing a chasm that Shi Renzu wouldn't be able to cross without dropping the wagonloads of bodies. The panting and heavy, quaking footsteps drew to a sudden halt, and Monkey knew that he had been right in his assumptions. "Gotcha," he said as he cleared the forest and landed on the ground, just as Crane touched down. Viper and Mantis emerged from the forest seconds after.

"Damn you, Dubaku." Shi Renzu roared as he gazed out over the chasm in fury. His heavy breathing was so loud Monkey was sure that Po and Tigress could hear it back at the Valley of Peace. Slowly, deliberately, the behemoth turned around, his bloodshot gaze sweeping over the four assembled warriors that stood before him.

"Small." He growled. "Too little to satisfy my hunger. There won't even be enough of you left to eat after I have killed you."

"That's nice." Monkey commented, knowing that they weren't going to be able to bring down this monster without a fight. The gorilla's gargantuan chest was rising and falling from the exertion of the chase, his bloody apron wet from the bamboo he had charged through. He reached for the massive cleaver that he'd strapped to his back before he had ran. That weapon looked much bigger this close up, Monkey saw, like the axe of an insane god.

"Shi Renzu." Crane began, stepping forward. "Why not make this easy on yourself? I'm sure the emperor will show mercy if you come qui-" Shi Renzu smashed his cleaver down into the ground, gouging a canyon in the earth. The shockwave tore up the ground on either side of the impact zone, causing all of the Kung Fu masters to jump back to avoid the flying dirt.

"I guess that's a no, then." Monkey said, as the gorilla charged forward with the cleaver held high above his head. The four of them scattered to avoid being liquified by the next slash he made. Mantis darted forward with speed akin to lightning and tried to hit Shi Renzu's pressure points. This only served to anger the monster even more. He swatted at the insect, who frantically dodged hands the size of the Jade Tortoise.

"I can't use my acupressure on him!" Mantis shouted as he struggled to avoid Shi Renzu's hands. "He's too fat!"

The behemoth roared and leaped into the air, dislodging Mantis and wildly swinging the cleaver at all of them. Monkey jumped over the gleaming steel and went for his face, punching and kicking, trying to knock out the immense foe. His hits didn't have any effect whatsoever. Shi Renzu lifted his cleaver up, almost hitting himself in the face but effectively driving the smaller simian away. It was like trying to fight a mountain. A cannibalistic mountain with a big-ass cleaver.

"Viper!" Crane shouted as he took to the air. She launched herself up and the bird caught her with his claws. He propelled himself upward with a few powerful wingbeats and threw her into Shi Renzu's face, striking him with her strong tail. Crane dove at his eyes, trying to gouge them out, the only strategy that he could think of to cripple their antagonist. Monkey and Mantis leaped onto his shoulders, the insect striking the nerves in his neck, Monkey hitting the gorilla's face as hard as he could. Their combined attacks made Shi Renzu step back.

The behemoth's foot hit one of the wagons, causing it to roll backwards and off the cliff. "Damn you all!" He shouted, reaching to catch it before it could fall into the chasm. He was too slow, however, and the wagon plummeted, with its contents, down to the depths. He stared down after it, a grin forming across his face. "Of course!" He exclaimed. Shi Renzu grabbed the remaining two wagons and, before anyone could stop him, leaped down after it, his grisly cargo in tow.

"No!" They all shouted, trying to stop him from diving down. Like their adversary was in catching the first wagon, they weren't fast enough. Shi Renzu's maniacal laughter echoed all the way down into the darkness. Monkey was the first to reach the edge and look down into the shifting abyss that he had jumped into. What they had assumed was a bottomless chasm wasn't quite as deep as they had originally thought. It was only about forty feet deep, too far for them to jump down, but a mere hop for Shi Renzu. The wagons had shattered, but the wood had absorbed most of the impact, and the corpses were undamaged in the fall. As they watched, he began gathering up the corpses, using the wagon's remains to make the load more manageable.

"The Master calls!" Shi Renzu's thunderous voice echoed up the chasm. "I return to his embrace!" Still cackling, he began to fade out, his bones becoming visible through his flesh. Within seconds, he had vanished entirely, the corpses going along with him. They stood there for a while after his evanescence, pondering. It was Monkey who broke that silence.

"Damn!" Monkey said. "He got away."

Shifu held the point of the spear as far away from his throat as he could manage. The spine was hard to get a decent grip on, so his strength was the only thing that was keeping it from plunging into his jugular. Dubaku leaned close to his face, his tail lashing angrily from side to side. Clearly going for that feline skull he had been protecting hadn't been the best decision; though rage often brings mistakes, it could also bring immense strength.

"You will never hurt her again!" the African leopard roared. "Your soul will never find solace in Mawu's embrace."

Shifu was hardly capable of holding the spear at bay. His aged bones creaked and ached with the effort, but the much younger cat didn't have that disadvantage. The night was starting to fall, and even through the rising darkness the gleam of Dubaku's noctilucent eyes could be easily made out. "I don't even want your corpse." He said, "for it will only bring rage to her heart!" Shifu could help but wonder who the hell he was talking about. The leopard was clearly insane, that much was fairly obvious, but the love he had for whoever that skull belonged to was undeniable.

Suddenly, the pressure of the bone-spear slackened. "What?" Dubaku said in disbelief. The grandmaster took advantage of this and kicked his antagonist off of him, sending him flying back. He landed on his feet. Shook his head. "No!" He shouted, pointing the spear at Shifu again. "I must kill him! He was wronged me! He has wronged _her!_ " Again, this strange emotion he was displaying. _Who is he talking to?_ The red panda wondered, preparing to attack again.

Dubaku let out a long, low growl, but eventually jerked his head back and sheathed his spear. "Damn you, I must go." He said to the grandmaster. "Enjoy the rest of your infinitesimally short life. For in the next few days, your beloved Valley of Peace will have seen its last dawn. It's last!" Then he spread out his arms and to Shifu's amazement, began to slowly fade out. His skeleton was the last thing to vanish, but it too was swallowed up by the encroaching night. It was just him now, him and the unconscious mercenaries.


	5. The Puppet Show

The night's grasp closed upon the streets like the hand of the dead taking its revenge on the living. The shadows swarmed around every stall, every corner, and the crowds couldn't lift the eerie feeling they cast. Po and Tigress marvelled at the turnout of the Puppet Master's show. It was like everyone in the Valley of Peace was present, making it difficult for them to navigate to the stage. Tigress had made Po pay for the tickets, since he was the only one of the two who had wanted to go, she figured it was only just.

In the time it had taken them to get back from the noodle shop, night had fallen and a massive stage had been erected at the edge of town, the only place where they could set up such a large structure. It was a truly monumental building; only rivalled by the Jade Palace in its girth. Massive wooden beams held up a domed ceiling and kept a thick velvet curtain over the stage. Thick clusters of goats, pigs, and rabbits milled around in groups, speaking to each other in loud voices about the show to come. Others were busy setting up a massive amount of chairs.

"Wow, I didn't think this many people would be here," Po said as it took it all in. A few of the onlookers caught a glimpse of him standing with Tigress and began speaking to others in low voices. _I wonder what they're talking about?_ Po thought as they walked past groups of staring people. _Maybe they're just surprised to see us make such a public appearance. Yeah, that must be it._

"I'm surprised they were able to build such a big stage this quickly." Tigress said as she looked it over. She caught a glimpse of a figure, wrapped in shadows, standing on top of the domed roof, staring down at the people. The silhouette of a top hat could be seen, and judging from the shape of the man on the stage, he was a monkey. She blinked, and then he was gone, like a ghost in the night. She narrowed her eyes at this.

"Tigress, what is it?" Po asked her. She frowned and shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "Let's go find our seats."

They were about to make their way to one of the middle rows of chairs when a voice interrupted them. "A moment, please."

They turned around to see a figure walking slowly towards them, dressed in all black and wearing a top hat. He was an elderly white-faced saki monkey, his dark eyes seeming to stare into both of theirs at the same time. He was wearing a nobleman's garb, although definitely not that of any Chinese royalty. His face was that of a person who had never smiled before, harsh and monotone. His voice fit his blank visage perfectly.

"A moment," he repeated, slowly raising his hand to point at them. "I know who you are, Master Po, Master Tigress. I am honoured to have two such influential figures at my puppet show." he bowed slowly, with great deliberation.

"Hey, you're the Puppet Master, aren't you?" Po said "I saw your picture on your flyer!". He grabbed the monkey's hand and shook it fiercely. "We're honoured to see your show, Sar... whatever your name is. I can't wait to see what you can do. I bet it's gonna be awesome!"

A faint smile crept slowly across the Puppet Master's face; his visage wasn't well suited to expressions of joy. "And you will not be disappointed. Of that I can assure you." Despite his smile, his voice was completely expressionless and had a faint accent, one she wasn't familiar with. _Rather unnerving, really_. Thought Tigress as Sârmă turned his eyes to her, his soulless eyes staring into her own. "The two of you deserve front row seats, I think. Consider it a token of my... _appreciation..._ for protecting your valley so stoically."

"Really? Cool! Thanks, " said Po, finally releasing the Puppet Master's hand, which he slowly lowered back to his side. The panda began excitedly making his way down to the front row by jumping over chairs and the people sitting in them. Tigress sighed and bowed to the Puppet Master, saying "It was a pleasure to meet you, Sârmă"

"I would think it is," said Sârmă, his joyless smile slightly widening. Tigress could feel his gaze burning the back of her neck all the way down the aisles. When she looked back again, the Puppet Master had vanished.

"Come one, come all!" A voice boomed from the stage as she sat down. "Prepare to be amazed! Prepare for the puppet show that will be the highlight of your very existence!" The curtains slowly began to roll back, giving glimpses of a blue sky through the folds. When the stage was fully revealed, it was an astonishing image. An expertly painted background of the sky stood behind several wooden buildings, and one of Sârmă's legendary puppets sat on the porch of one of the buildings. It was a wolf, a wooden puppet, so realistic that Tigress had to take a second look to make sure it wasn't an actor.

The wolf puppet was picking away at a sanxian, a dire tune that reverberated through the crowd like a breeze. The Puppet Master was high above, dozens of thin wires moving wildly extending from his fingers to his puppet, holding onto a rung on the ceilling with his other hand. His puppet's song began to pick up its pace and become a more frenetic beat. He was making his puppet play the instrument, by controlling it with the wires. _Unbelievable,_ thought Tigress, as she watched this spectacle. Sârmă made no mistake in his playing, his fingers moving about quickly, but deliberately, the wires a mere blur.

"This is the tale of the great general," the Puppet Master's voice came ringing out from the stage. "The all-powerful warlord known to us as Xiedu Dehua." His puppet slowed the rhythm of the song drastically, becoming the eerie beat he had begun with again. The curtains closed as the melody played its haunting notes, and when they opened again, the background- and the song- had changed. A red sky had replaced the azure one, and dozens of puppets, armed with swords, spears and pretty much any weapon imaginable were clashing. Their movements were fluid, lifelike, almost creepily so. It seemed impossible for one man to control so many, so skillfully.

"Xiedu Dehua was a general the likes of which China had never seen before," Sârmă said as his hands moved in all directions with incredible speed, the wires dancing through the air with filaments of light glinting occasionally off of them. One of his puppets began to slowly rise above the other ones. It looked like a mountain goat, although it seemed far too tall to be one, and its horns had an unusual curve in them. "His courage was great. His strategy was impeccable. But his cruelty knew no limits."

Sârmă made one of his puppets leap in the air towards the mountain goat- presumably Xiedu Dehua. The mountain goat flashed out an arm and a knife flew out of its spacious sleeves and into the heart of the puppet that attacked it. Everyone in the theater visible winced; although they all knew it was just a puppet, it was so realistic it was easy to believe otherwise. "He slaughtered any who defied him. He was a true conqueror, and he knew no equal in power or strength."

Suddenly a glint of light next to the stage caught Tigress's attention. She narrowed her eyes, but she couldn't see anything there. Then the glint came again and she realized that there were two other strings running from the Puppet Master's hands, much thinner than the other ones so as to be almost invisible. They ran off far to the left of the theater, over several buildings until they vanished from sight. _I wonder what those strings are for,_ Tigress mused. _Maybe to improve his puppet's stability?_

After a long and arduous battle of puppets, Sârmă of Wallachia spoke again."His wrath eventually caught up with him. When he returned to his emperor, he was beheaded, executed for his crimes." The curtains shut and opened again in a few moments. The mountain goat was now hunched over a chopping block, its hooded executioner standing over it with an axe in hand. As everyone watched, caught in mixed horror and awe, it slowly raised the axe up and brought it down. The puppet's head flew off and clattered to the ground. "His death brought peace to China, although it is no longer as feared as it had been before. Xiedu Dehua was a great man, a hero. Such legends don't die so easily."

The curtains closed again, and when they reopened a circle of black-clad puppets were standing around a closed coffin. Their heads were bowed as though in mourning, their faces hidden. The wolf puppet that had been playing the sanxian had changed to a different song, sorrowful and morose. A funeral scene.

"We are gathered here today to lay to rest the great general, Xiedu Dehua." The lead puppet raised its head and spoke, although Sârmă was the voice. The wooden mouth moved in perfect synchronicity with the master's. "He has given China power, glory, freedom. We will all be forever in his debt." The puppet walked slowly over to the coffin, before bowing down to it and kissing the lid. Or, whatever passed for kissing with a puppet.

"Xiedu Dehua must be nailed to his coffin with seven silver spikes." said the puppet "One through each arm, hand and knee, and let the last of the seven be drawn through his mouth, so that he will never rise and cause evil again." the puppet bowed its head again, just as a servant brought up the nails and a hammer. "Now, who shall be the first?" Sârmă cried out to the crowd through his wooden creation's mouth. Everyone glanced at each other, unsure of whether he was speaking to them or not.

Suddenly, the coffin exploded. Literally. A blast of fire erupted from within the polished wood, and massive shards flew out and shattered all the puppets standing around it to pieces. There were several screams in the audience, the sudden explosion catching all of them off guard. Fortunately, the puppets took all of the shards, as was likely intended. A figure rose out of the wreckage, another puppet. It was the one that passed for Xiedu Dehua, although this one was different, somehow. "I, Xiedu Dehua!" He boomed. It wasn't Sârmă's monotone voice anymore. It was guttural, filled with phlegm and blood. He turned to the crowd. "Your world is drawing to its violent end! Soon, blood will become the new currency, milk and honey will flow no more! The worms have spoken, so let it be written, so let it be done." This puppet's eyes were glowing unnaturally as he roared, the curtains closing as he spoke.

The crowd was silent after the shut completely. No one knew how to react to that ending, so you could hear a pin drop on the stage. The quiet carried on for a moment. Then another. Suddenly, the entire crowd burst into thunderous applause, so loud it could be heard all across the valley. The curtains opened again and Sârmă was there, between all the puppets he had used in his show. They all bowed as one, the Puppet Master expertly manipulating the wires to make it so. Tigress looked to the side to see Po standing up, clapping loudly and shouting; "Awesome!" to the stage. The applause carried on for another full minute, before dying down as the curtains closed for the last time.

Later, Po and Tigress began making their way back to the Jade Palace. Thankfully, the crowds had thinned off greatly as the townsfolk hurried off back to their homes. Tigress couldn't shake a feeling of unease at that final scene in the Puppet Master's show. The fallen general rising from his grave, promising to wipe out all life, and then closing the stage at that? It didn't seem like much of an ending, and seemed very out of place in the rest of his incredible show. Po was enthusiastically chattering about how 'awesome' the performance had been. At, least, that was probably what he was talking about; all of the five had learned how to tune out the panda if he got really into one of his stories.

"Po," Tigress said, unintentionally interrupting the Dragon Warrior in the middle of a sentence. "Did you notice anything strange, near the end of the show?"

"Uh... I saw an old man playing with puppets."

Tigress shook her head irritably. "No, not like that. The Puppet Master had two alternate wires running from his fingers over to..." she mentally lined up the strings she'd seen, and pointed to where she thought they would lead. "...there."

"I didn't see anything like that. You sure you weren't just seeing things?"

"I know what I saw, panda." she growled then nodded off in the direction she'd pointed to. "I think it would be a good idea to see what he was doing over there. I don't trust Sârmă one bit. He's here for more than just performing, I'm sure of that."

"How can you be so mean to that guy?" Po complained. "He gave us front row seats! For no reason!"

"Probably an attempt to get us to trust him." Tigress said as she began walking down an alleyway. Po watched her go until she was swallowed up by the shadows. Her amber eyes flashed from the darkness at him. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Po said, and then followed her into the black. The shadows pressed down on them as they entered the alleyway, fighting to gain dominion over the light. Tigress started down the alley, using her enhanced night vision to scan for threats. Even though her vision might not have been as good as other cats, it was still more than enough to penetrate the darkness that surrounded them now.

"This is kind of spooky, isn't it?" Po whispered as though there was an army of the living dead waiting to ambush them. Tigress didn't respond, choosing to carrying on with their investigation rather than try to reassure him. He was the Dragon Warrior, after all; he shouldn't need to be comforted. Although admittedly, this alley _was_ rather creepy. The tall, ominous silhouettes of the buildings on either side of them seemed to be staring, calculating... waiting.

Tigress froze as a new scent wafted towards her from around a corner in the alleyway. It was strong, coppery and harsh, but also disturbingly familiar. It was the stench of blood and death, the reek of slaughter. "Po, come on." She said over her shoulder. The urgency in her tone became clear to the panda as she picked up her pace. She turned the corner, and gasped aloud at the scene that greeted her.

There were three bodies laying about ten feet in front of her. Two of them had been nailed to the walls, their bodies crushed and misshapen. Their faces had been sloughed off and they were covered in horrific wounds, bones peeking through the bloodied skin. The other one- a pig- had been nailed to the ground by his hands and feet, his shirt torn open to reveal a gaping chest wound that stretched from his throat to his stomach. His eyes had been replaced with long taper candles, with a pillar candle stuffed into his mouth, all lit. The dancing firelight cast a sinister shadow over the dead faces of the murdered townsfolk.

"Tigress, what's going-" Po began as he caught up to her. He saw the corpses and stopped suddenly, standing as still as the feline he was next to. "Oh. I guess that's what's going on."

"I didn't think he'd be able to do something like this..." Tigress murmured, taking a step forward towards the bodies. Her paw hit something left lying on the ground. She knelt down and picked it up, carefully observing it. It was a clay bowl, filled with a strange material like folded cloth. Gingerly pressing a claw to it, her eyes widened and she almost dropped it. The bowl was filled with the folded-up faces of the two corpses nailed to the walls. A goat's and a pig's face.

"What?" Po asked her.

"Sârmă of Wallachia. He must have used his puppets to kill these people from afar. The coward."

"You seriously think that he did this?" Po inquired. "He was at the show all night; and I'd think that he'd be too occupied with controlling his puppets to use another one to kill some people on the other side of town."

"It sounds impossible, I know." said Tigress. "But you saw what he could do. His skill in puppetry. Is it really so hard to believe that he used another puppet while everyone was distracted watching his show?"

"Well... kinda." admitted Po. "Normally I'm the one coming up with the crazy theories, though. Wait, what's in the bowl?" He glanced at the contents of her hands and his face went green. She put the bowl onto the ground and pushed it gently away to the wall so it wouldn't distract him any further. Tigress walked over to the corpses and knelt down next to the one on the ground. This close, she could make out thousands of tiny lacerations, with tiny wooden slivers sticking out of the rents. There was one thing she couldn't see, however, in the soft sand that covered the ground.

"Po, there's no footprints." Tigress said. The panda came walking over tentatively, unwilling to get too close to the bloody scene. "No... footprints?" Po hesitantly asked. He scanned the ground and found it to be true, save for the footprints they had made to get here. He couldn't stand the stench; how Tigress was able to lean so close to the bodies was beyond him.

"This only validates my speculation even more, Po." Tigress said.

The panda shook his head. "It whats your what?"

"These people were definitely killed by Sârmă's puppets. This corpse has dozens of splinters in it, and the other two probably do as well. He probably dropped them from up there," she pointed up to one of the rooftops "down to here." she pointed to a faint lesion in the sand, as though something heavy had been dropped from above. "How he can control them without seeing his puppets is beyond me." she said. "But it doesn't surprise me that he can, after watching his puppet show."

"I still don't think he really killed these people."

"I also don't think anyone else could have without leaving footprints."

Po sighed. "I guess you have a point there. What do we do now, then?"

"The only thing we can do at the moment." Tigress's amber gaze burned into his emerald. "We need to find the Puppet Master."


	6. Into the Night

There was something about the dark midnight streets that had always creeped the hell out of Po. As a child, it was easier to hide, because he was usually inside at the time. At this moment, though, his creeped-out feeling had escalated somewhat. They were chasing a potential murderer, who could apparently kill three people on the opposite side of town with puppets. As sickening as the ordeal of seeing those bodies had been, Po couldn't help but think how awesome the Puppet Master had to be to do that. He took some comfort from having the strong, stoic master Tigress with him, but the logical part of his brain told him that Sârmă was probably a lot more powerful than he had let on.

"Man, I really hope the Puppet Master isn't the killer." Po said, breaking the silence that had stretched on for a few minutes as they retraced their steps to where the stage was. "That guy was seriously awesome!"

"You haven't exactly made your opinion of him a secret." Tigress's voice suggesting that she was too focused on their task to care about what the panda thought of the murderer. Po looked at her.

"Seriously, Ti, what's with you today? You've been in a bad mood ever since you woke up. Did you have another nightmare, or something?"

Tigress stopped and gave him a look that silenced him right away. "Po, we need to focus. Whoever did this is still in the Valley. Having him running around killing people like that would make the villagers think we are shirking our duties." She turned her gaze back to the road and continued towards their destination. Po hesitated for a moment before hurrying to catch up with her.

"Ah, I see. It's another one of those 'we can't look bad to the people we protect' things, isn't it? Come on, I'm sure we'll catch whoever's behind this before they kill again. Our image will be safe." Po tried to assure her.

"It's not our 'image' I'm concerned about. You know how peaceful things have been for the last few months. Then, all of a sudden, this happens, and on the night the Puppet Master comes. I know what I saw, Po... he had two other wires running off into the direction of that alley, and he was moving them like they were connected to something. Don't you feel that this might have something to do with the bandits and villages disappearing?"

"I, uh, guess I didn't really think about that." Po admitted. "But come on, what would an old puppet master have against the Valley of Peace? I mean, he's from Wallachia. I can't imagine he'd just come here and start killing at random."

"Neither can I." Tigress said. "But in all the years I've been in the Furious Five, I haven't seen anyone get killed like that. If there was someone in the Valley who was capable of doing what we saw back there, they would have acted on their insanity earlier. Sârmă's arrival can't have been a coincidence."

"Yeah, well..." Po trailed off when he realized that she was right. Whoever killed those people was crazy beyond any villain he'd seen as the Dragon Warrior. He'd fought power-hungry tyrants, rogue Kung Fu Masters, hordes of bandits, but nothing like this guy must be. He wasn't just a madman; he was a monster. There was no way they could hide that fact from everyone else. "I guess it had to be Sârmă. At least we're almost at the stage, so maybe he'll be able to-"

They turned a corner and both of them froze at one at what they saw. Or rather, what they _didn't_ see. The stage, the chairs, the puppets. All of them were gone. Only a wide expanse of flattened grass gave any indication of the amazing performance that had taken place here. "What... the hell?" Tigress got out, unable to find any other words to describe the situation. "We left this place not twenty minutes ago. There's no way he could have disassembled the stage so quickly. It's impossible."

"So is killing people from a distance with puppets, but that just happened." Po responded.

"This isn't a laughing matter, panda. There isn't _anything_ here; he couldn't have taken all this down that quickly, by himself. He had to have had help, and lots of it."

An uncomfortable silence stretched out for the next few seconds, neither of them wanting to voice their fears about the possibility of not a single madman, but an army of them.

"Even with help, he couldn't have gotten very far with the load he'd been carrying. All we need to do is find out what direction he went in, and follow it." Tigress said.

"Well, I guess he wouldn't have gone so quickly if he didn't kill those people." Po hung his head in disappointment. "And I was going to ask him if he could show me how to use puppets."

"Learning puppetry is the least of our worries now. Come on, there has to be some clue as to where he'd gone off to somewhere. It's somewhat difficult to lug around a stage without leaving a trace."

As Tigress had suggested, they found massive marks in the grass, as though something indescribably heavy had been dragged across it. They led off into a forest of bamboo, where many of the stalks had been crushed and thrown aside, making a clear path through the underbrush. The shadows had coalesced to form a vista of darkness that made it impossible to see any more than a few feet into the forest.

"Of course," Po complained. "Why do they always have to run into the darkest, creepiest places they can think of?"

"The darkness won't hurt you. We need to hurry, before we lose him" Tigress said.

When they stepped into the black void, the shadows welcomed them into their embrace with cold, black arms. The wind seemed to wail their names as they trudged through the bamboo, feeling the chill of the night catch them in their grasp. It seemed much colder here than it had out in the village, as though the lonely dead were breathing down their necks. Po shuddered at the thought and tried to not let his imagination run wild, but the bamboo around them seemed so menacing in the night. _It's just bamboo, it's just bamboo, it's just-_

Something large and heavy came crashing down from above, landing directly in front of them. Po and Tigress both jumped back in surprise, with the panda letting out a tiny scream as it happened. It was a puppet, clearly of Sârmă's design. Even in the darkness, it looked so realistic Po had actually thought someone had fallen from above. The puppet rocked gently in the wind, suspending by wires that were tied to the tops of two bamboo stalks, which were leaning over slightly from the weight, intersecting above their heads like an archway.

"Alright, I'm officially scared." Po whispered to Tigress, who was inspecting the puppet carefully.

"Sârmă left this puppet for us to find deliberately. He must know that we've found the bodies, but I don't know how."

"Maybe he can see through his puppet's eyes?" Po suggested.

"Don't be a fool." The sudden voice made them both jump and glance around in every direction. It seemed to be coming from all around them, but no figure could be seen. It was the unmistakable, monotone voice of Sârmă, the Puppet Master. Somehow, the elderly white-faced saki monkey had gotten the jump on them.

"Where are you?" Tigress demanded. "Show yourself!"

"Can you hear the darkness, whispering in your ear?" Sârmă said softly, ignoring her words. "It warns you, yes, warns you of the slaughter that will be your epitaph."

"What are you talking about?" Po asked, sharing a glance with Tigress. He wasn't making any sense.

"You already know." Suddenly, the Puppet Master revealed himself, slowly trudging out of the darkness. "The dead are singing to me, singing beautiful songs of sweet oblivion. You have yet to see the aesthetic of their words. Of their faces, of their cold, still hearts."

A slight clattering sound came from behind Sârmă, and seconds later three of his puppets came shambling up. Po noticed that the Puppet Master had arranged a network of thin wires throughout the tops of the bamboo, which he was using to make his creations walk forward with deft movements of his fingers. Po saw that his puppets were two pigs and a goat, but they had been carved to look like their faces had been peeled off. He gasped.

"Tigress, it's those people in the alley! He made his new puppets look just like their corpses."

Judging from the disgusted expression on her face, she had already made the same connection. The puppets walked closer to them, and a silver glint drew his eyes to their hands. They all carried daggers.

"In my glorious kingdom," said the Puppet Master with a twisted gleam in his eyes. "Only the most beautiful are chosen, for their faces in death are the only ones that speak to me. Consider it an honour that you two were selected. You shall have a special place in my heart, in my soul. You two will be welcomed with open arms."

"Not a chance," Tigress snarled, getting into a battle stance. Po did the same, but Sârmă smiled a weird, creepy smile that stopped them both in their tracks.

"Your puppets will the most resplendent in my kingdom." The Puppet Master finished, then struck. His hands shot down to the ground, causing his three puppets to leap in the air. He pulled the wires back, and they flew towards the two Kung Fu masters who stood before him with their daggers extended.

Po ducked as the first puppet came flying over his head and bounced the second one away with his tremendous belly. It went flying back towards its master, who stopped it with a foot without a break in the wild movements of his fingers. The first one came back up behind him, and Po spun around and punched it with all the strength he could muster. The wooden figure barely shuddered from the impact, and a shockwave of agony shot down his arm.

"Ow!" Po yelled, clutching his wounded hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the other two puppets were locked in battle with Tigress, who was sharing the same difficulty in fighting off the puppets. "Seriously," Po said as he dodged his wooden adversary's dagger. "What are these things made out of?"

"It's definitely not just wood, that's for sure." Tigress said, coming up beside him. Back to back, they tried to fend off the three puppets that ferociously besieged them. Tigress hit one of them with a punch that could shatter stone, but all it did was send the marionette flying backwards. It hadn't even cracked from the force of her blow. It came shooting back towards them, and they had to scatter to avoid it before it impaled one of them with its blade. Po grabbed the weapon arm of the closest puppet to him and bounced it away with his belly, like he had with the first one.

"Your struggles will only prove futile." said the Puppet Master as he redirected the flying puppet back towards the two of them. "My glorious kingdom awaits!"

"Your glorious kingdom can suck it!" Po shot back as he struggled to dodge the two puppets that slashed at him with ruthless precision.

"We aren't getting anywhere doing this," Tigress said to the panda as they got back to back again, ready to fight off another attack. "You keep his puppets busy, I'll go for Sârmă." Without waiting for his response, she leaped off into the air towards the Puppet Master. His right hand went straight down to the ground, making one of his puppets jump up and return to him with astonishing speed. It went between him and stopped Tigress's deadly kick mere inches from Sârmă's face. The dagger came up quickly, and she grabbed the blade with her bare hands and tossed the weapon aside.

It was worth it to see the look on the Puppet Master's face; he clearly had not been expecting that to happen in the slightest. _Punching those ironwood trees will never stop paying off,_ she thought, then kicked the puppet out of the way and threw another punch, this one going straight for his face. He swung his head out of the way at the last second, and pulled his strings with great ferocity. All three of his puppets jumped through the air as he leaped back, putting them between her and him. Po came running up beside her.

"This guy's really starting to get on my nerves," said Po, and the puppets descended upon them once again. The fighting was fierce; it was like the two of them were battling three highly skilled Kung Fu masters. Sârmă didn't even look like he was out of breath, his soulless eyes focused on his prey. His hands were a blur, and the wires were dancing through the dark woods, but he made no mistake in his macabre dance.

"Po, go for Sârmă." Tigress said to him, in a low enough voice that the Puppet Master wouldn't hear. "Take him out, and his puppets will go with him."

"Got it," Po said, then slipped between two puppets and ran as fast as his panda legs could take him. Sârmă did the same thing as when Tigress had tried that, and a marionette suddenly stood between him and the Puppet Master. "Gah! This is really annoying."

"It's almost time now." Po heard the Puppet Master whisper, the saki monkey's eyes wide and dark, moonlight reflecting off of his pupils. His puppet drove its dagger towards Po's stomach, aiming to eviscerate him, but at the last second an orange blur flashed beside him. He saw the glint of unsheathed claws, and then the puppet fell lifelessly to the ground. Tigress had cut their strings! Not wasting this opportunity, he dove forward and hit Sârmă with his trademark belly slam.

The white-face saki monkey went flying as though shot from a cannon, his top hat blowing off. He crashed through dozens of bamboo stalks, before landing somewhere out of view. "Nice, Tigress!" Po shouted. "That was awesome!"

"Let's get him before he recovers," Tigress said breathlessly, and they ran to where the Puppet Master had flown off to. He had landed in a clearing, and when they reached it, they were surprised to discover not one person there, but two. Two Sârmă's. They both had somehow gotten their top hats back.

"I told you your efforts were futile." Both master and puppet moved their mouths simultaneously; like his other ones, this one looked like it was alive. It was impossible to tell which one was which. "The time has come now, Master, and I will bring them to you." Without saying any more, both Puppet Masters took off in two different directions. "Damn!" Tigress cursed. "You are _not_ getting away!"

She ran off after one of them, and Po realized he had no choice but to go after the other. Taking a deep breath, he followed the other Sârmă in pursuit, running through the black night.


	7. A Game of Puppets

The Puppet Master was fast as hell for his age.

Not fast enough for Tigress to lose him, though. He leaped through the bamboo, unable to get high enough and out of her reach, but he always was just one step ahead. She was speeding after him on all fours, feeling her blood boil with the thrill of the chase. He didn't look back, didn't give any indication of fear at her being so close he could probably feel her breath at his feet. Tigress was convinced that this was the real Sârmă; no hands, no matter how skilled, could make a puppet move like this. Especially not when they were running away.

Though the darkness was absolute, she had no trouble keeping the Puppet Master in her sights. His distinctive silhouette was outlined against the leering moon, its silver glow making both of their shadows merge together. In this moment, nothing existed in her mind except for her quarry. She knew, without a doubt, that those three people Sârmă had murdered would be avenged this night. So Tigress pushed herself, straining her muscles to run faster, the sound of her own blood pulsing in her ears.

Sârmă was tricky; he would change directions and run off through the pathless forest, in a vain attempt to confuse her. But it never did, even when he ran through the aphotic shadows, being engorged by the darkness, she never gave up her chase. He must have been getting tired by now; after that long show he had played tonight, taking down the stage, and fighting them had surely taken its toll on his energy. Tigress caught on to this when he would occasionally slip on whatever bamboo stalk he was holding on to, his grip failing in evident exhaustion. _No point in wasting all of my energy, too,_ she thought, slowing down her pace but keeping the Puppet Master in her vision. When he couldn't flee anymore, that was when she would attack

 _He's definitely exhausted,_ Tigress thought, smirking as she ran. She couldn't hear anything over the blood pounding in her ears, but if she could, Sârmă's panting would have replaced it. His long black nobleman's coat was whirring as he leaped away, but it couldn't hide his age. His frailty. It was all starting to crash down on him now, that was fairly obvious, even in her feral state of mind.

Then the Puppet Master made his mistake. His grip failed him, and he flew off and hit a bamboo stalk with such force that it snapped the strong plant in half. "Got you!" Tigress shouted, pouncing on the supine Sârmă. He was laying there motionless, and he didn't even flinch when she landed on him and raised a paw, claws unsheathed. His eyes stared up into her own, those cold, black eyes, and then his mouth fell open woodenly.

 _Dammit,_ Tigress thought, rage beginning to boil in her heart. _It was just a puppet._ She stood up with a growl, her eyes narrowed in fury. He had outsmarted her, and because of that, he was still out there in the woods, probably laughing at how foolishly she had fallen for his trick. Wait, no... the other Sârmă had ran off in a different direction, and Po had gone after him so that they would get the real one no matter what. Now the panda was lost and alone in the dark... with the Puppet Master.

"Po!" Tigress gasped, the feral rage that had overtaken her rational thought quickly replaced with fear for her friend. That madman hadn't been running; he had deliberately separated them so he could finish them off one at a time. If anything happened to the panda because of her recklessness, she would never be able to forgive herself. She quickly turned around and ran as though all of the demons in the underworld were nipping at her heels, into the direction she thought she had come from.

...

 _I would have definitely caught this guy by now if he couldn't climb,_ thought Po as he struggled over a large boulder after the Puppet Master. He was just ahead of the panda, unable to outrun him, Po unable to catch up to him. Sârmă took a strange, lurching route through the forest, often going off the path and into the darkness and reappearing as he dashed through patches of moonlight. _Damn, my night vision isn't as good as Tigress's..._

But Po didn't hesitate to go after him, even when he couldn't see his own hands in front of his face. He didn't want to feel the pain of Tigress's blows if he let the murderer get away. The crashing ahead of him told him that the Puppet Master was having the same difficulty navigating through the dark as the giant panda was. "Ha!" Po shouted at a rustle to the left of him in the infinite darkness, throwing a punch. A stalk of bamboo crashed lifelessly to the ground. A silhouette revealed itself in the moonlight, clad in black and wearing a top hat.

"There you are!" Po ran to him, but the Puppet Master stepped back and vanished into the darkness again. _He's not running anymore,_ Po thought, and a chill ran down his spine. _Oh no, I think this might be the real one._

Po stopped, gasping for breath. Sârmă was nowhere to be seen, and as he strained his eyes to catch even the slightest glimpse of him, the Puppet Master appeared again in another patch of moonlight, even farther away. "Aha!" Po in the direction his adversary was standing in, but was tripped up by something and fell hard on his face. Ignoring the stinging pain in his nose, he got up and ran after Sârmă again. The white-faced saki monkey leaped off to the side, and Po heard rapid footsteps as he ran away again. He must have found another path.

It didn't take long for Po to catch up to the Puppet Master; he was old, and probably tired, so his running speed had drastically slowed, and he wasn't leaping through the bamboo anymore. _I've got him! I've got him!_ He thought excitedly as he closed the distance between himself and Sârmă. _Man, Tigress is gonna be so impressed I managed to catch him!_

Po tackled the Puppet Master to the ground, feeling the soft silk of his clothes as he grabbed him and forced him to the dirt. "Yes! Finally!" Po shouted out to the night. "I finally got you!" As soon as he finished yelling, he realized that something was wrong. The old man beneath him wasn't moving at all, and his limbs were spread in all different directions, broken and twisted.

"Aw, c'mon!" Po whined, turning the Puppet Master over. He had been wrong before; it wasn't the real Sârmă at all, just one of his puppets. "Man, this guy is good." Po thought aloud, then noticed something weird. To his left was a massive pile of smashed wood, once high quality, now just a mound of useless splinters. He caught a glimpse of velvet hanging out halfway up the pile, and he realized what it was. "Hey, look, it's the Puppet Master's stage! I guess we finally found out what happened to it, didn't we, Tigress?" Po looked around, and then realized his mistake. "Oh yeah, Tigress isn't here. She's off chasing the..." His eyes widened. "Tigress!"

He was about to turn around when he saw something move when the wind blew, high above. When Po turned his emerald gaze upward, he saw dozens- no, hundreds of figures suspended from the bamboo stalks on wires. _Oh no, puppets!_ Was Po's horrified thought as he got into a fighting stance, ready to fight them off. When they didn't move at all, he frowned and stepped closer, trying to get a better view. The darkness didn't help very much, but he didn't need to make out their features to know what they really were.

 _Corpses._

Po took a step back, feeling his breathing grow shallow and fast. There were hundreds of corpses hanging from the wires by their necks, like Sârmă's grisly puppets. He spun around, but it was the same view in every direction. He didn't notice the hanging bodies before; he'd been too focused on the chase. Now, the cool night air was filled with the reek of blood and bowels released in death. Po wanted to throw up, but he swallowed back the bile. _I can't puke, Kung Fu masters don't puke when they see a few bodies._

"Tigress?" he tentatively called out, hoping she was close by, then shut himself up, realizing how stupid that was. There could be something even worse than the psychopathic Puppet Master roaming the night. Something with claws and fangs and tentacles and... _no. Things like that don't really exist. I need to find Tigress before Sârmă kills her. I don't even want to think about what he'll do to her before he does that..._

 _I don't even know where she is,_ thought Po right before he ran off into the woods, but he didn't care. He would fight a million puppets if he had to to save Tigress. Nothing was going to stop him from finding her. The dark welcomed him as it had with the dead who were hanging above with a chilling embrace, but this time there was little fear in his heart at the terrors the night beheld. It was filled with determination and sick, sick worry.

...

Tigress had never run so fast in her entire life. Her lungs burned, her claws tore on the ground, but she didn't care about the pain, even as she began to leave bloody prints wherever she ran. Po was in terrible danger, _if_ he was even still alive. An image came to her mind of Po's body mutilated and left in the alley like trash, and the thought filled her with more fear than anything she had felt before. _I_ have _to find him,_ she thought as she dodged between bamboo, trees, rocks and bushes.

She had no idea where Po was, or even where she was, and her night vision was useless in the pitch black. _Why did I have to go after the Puppet Master alone? I should have made Po come with me, even if it meant letting that lunatic escape. No friend's life is worth sacrificing to take down one enemy._ Tigress leaped over a deep ditch that suddenly appeared in front of her and hit the ground running, ignoring the agony that burned her paws whenever they touched the dirt.

The Puppet Master would suffer unimaginably if he did anything to Po. Tigress's claws unsheathed as she imagined sinking them into that expressionless face. Kung Fu had no place in the fate that awaited Sârmă if she found the panda dead. Those thoughts only distracted her; it was like she was assuming Po had already met his end, so she silenced them with a growl. It was much, much harder than it used to be to quell such treacherous thoughts.

Suddenly, a massive figure stepped out from a deep patch of shadows and directly into her path. Startled, Tigress didn't have any time to stop, and she collided with the person head-on. Both of them went flying, rolling a decent fifteen feet before coming to a stop against a boulder. She was laying on top of whoever she had crashed into, and could feel the warmth radiating from his fur. She couldn't see him, but she knew exactly who it was she'd bowled over."Po," Tigress breathed a sigh of relief

"Tigress?" Po looked confused for a moment, and then his face broke into a grin. "It _is_ you!"

"You defeated the Puppet Master?" They both asked at the same time. Po's eyes widened.

"I caught his puppet! I thought _you_ had the real one."

"So did I, at first." Tigress admitted "But I knocked him down, and discovered that it wasn't the real one. I thought he'd deliberately separated us so he would only fight one at a time, but now I have no idea what he's playing at."

"Yeah, he's really weird and all," Po said "but could you get off of me please? I'm kind of laying on something sharp."

Tigress realized that she was still on top of the panda, and scurried back quickly, allowing him to get up. She hoped the darkness was enough to hide her blushing. "That's better," Po said. Then a grim look settled in his eyes. "Oh, and I found his stage. The Puppet Master's, I mean. He'd broken it to pieces, so I guess that explains how he was able to hide it so quickly."

"Was there anything else there?" she inquired.

Po was silent for a moment, so long that Tigress thought he wasn't going to respond at all. Though she could only faintly see the emerald green of his eyes, she could definitely make out the haunted look in them.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "There were bodies, hanging from the bamboo. It looked like there were _hundreds_ of them, not just a few. They definitely weren't puppets."

"My god," Tigress breathed, sitting back against a gnarled tree. "I think we may have discovered what happened to those villages."

Po nodded, or at least that's what the motion looked like in the black. "He led me there so that I could see them. I think he wants us to be hanging up there with them."

"I don't know," she said. "He said he wanted us for his 'glorious kingdom', but it's hard to interpret the words and actions of a madman. Nothing he's done tonight makes any sense. Why would he separate us, lead you to those bodies, and then let us find our way back to each other when he could have killed us alone?"

"Well..." Po began with more than a little uncertainty. "I think I might have an answer for that, but it's really just another question."

"What is it?"

"Do you know where the hell we are?"

Tigress stood up. "Of course I-" she stopped and looked around. She _should_ know where she was; they weren't very far from the Valley of Peace, but the darkness gave everything an alien, unfamiliar look. The Puppet Master had managed to get them lost in their own domain. "-dammit."

"Yeah, and it doesn't help that Sârmă's out there still, probably watching us right now. But I don't think he's trying to kill us yet. It looks like he's been luring us somewhere this whole time. But where?" Po ended his sentence with a question, looking to Tigress's noctilucent eyes for answers. She could provide none.

"He'll come for us again," Tigress promised "but I imagine he'll let us think we beat him again, and then run. Wherever he wants us to be, we must be close to it now."

"I guess that's not where we want to be."

"Very astute, Po." Tigress said. She paused for a moment. "If he comes for us again, we won't stand a chance in the dark. We need to find somewhere with more light, and fast."

"As fast as lightning." He agreed, standing up with her. "But... wait. Wouldn't that just make it easier for him to see us, too?"

"It's the only chance we have. Come on, let's go."

They eventually found a clearing in the seemingly endless forest, which they were able to rest for a moment to regain their bearings. Fortunately, the moonlight here was so bright that it could cast shadows, so they wouldn't have any trouble fighting as long as they didn't leave the clearing. When the moonlight touched Tigress's fur, it turned it silver and black. And red. Tigress felt a stinging pain when she saw the crimson liquid soaking her paws.

"Whoa, Tigress, you're bleeding!" Po exclaimed, his eyes widened with concern. Her claws had been torn or ground down and were seeping blood, a lot of it. She'd completely forgotten that they had been damaged when she was running through the woods in her desperation to find Po. She must have had her claws unsheathed the entire time and not noticed, and she'd been running across hard stone for a good portion of the chase. As the memory came crashing back, the agony struck with a burning vengeance. She didn't let any of it show on her face, though, even when Po grabbed her paws to examine them closely.

"How'd you even manage to do this?" he worriedly asked. "Did you, like, run across iron with your claws unsheathed, or something? This looks pretty bad."

Tigress jerked her paws out of his grasp and let them hang by her sides. "I think I'll live." she said. "Assuming the Puppet Master doesn't kill us, that is."

"That's... comforting," Po said, looking down at the ground. He gasped. "Tigress, your feet are bleeding too!"

"Yes, they also have claws on them. Po, we have bigger things to worry about now than torn nails. Remember the Puppet Master? He has an extra advantage over us now. I won't be able to cut his puppet's strings until my claws grow back, which will probably be in a few weeks."

"But he could attack us at any minute!"

"And attack I will." Came Sârmă's response from the woods around them. This time, they weren't as startled as when he first appeared out of nowhere. They got into their battle stances right away, back to back.

"You two certainly live up to your reputation," the Puppet Master said. He came shambling out of the darkness, clutching the right side of his chest. When he lowered his hand, Tigress felt a chill run down her spine. A splintered stalk of bamboo protruded from the right side of his chest, gleaming black with blood. Suddenly her torn claws hurt a little bit less.

"You have damaged me." Sârmă said softly, but there wasn't even the slightest hint of pain on his expressionless face. "I will have to punish you, my sweet, sweet servants. I may even transfer the wounds I will make on your flesh to your new, eternal bodies. Wouldn't that be lovely? Truly, you will be the gems of my glorious kingdom."

"How the hell is he even standing?" Tigress heard Po whisper.

The Puppet Master grabbed the end of the bamboo stalk and pulled it out slowly from his chest, his expression not flickering at all. When it had exited his body, he dropped it and it slowly rolled away, leaving a thick trail of blood behind it. Sârmă reached into his coat and pulled out a vial that looked like it was carved from bone and popped off the cork. He splashed the clear liquid contents onto his wound and to their amazement, it healed, rapidly closing in on itself and eventually vanishing.

"You see, I am far more than the king of my puppets, now." Sârmă whispered. "I have become the god of my glorious kingdom. Bow down before me, or face my divine wrath."

"Never!" Po and Tigress responded at the same time. A smile slowly crept along the Puppet Master's face.

"Such beautiful spirits you possess. I am honoured to take them from you."

"What are you after? Why have you come to the Valley of Peace?" Tigress asked the saki monkey. A humourless chuckle answered her.

"Just stay. I want you to stay." His eyes got even darker and the smile slipped from his face. "I'm going to cut open your brains and _make_ you stay with me."

Sârmă ducked quickly, just as dozens of large shapes flew out of the darkness behind him. Puppets, and not smaller ones like the goat and pigs he'd attacked them with earlier. There were wolves, crocodiles, rhinos, even a massive elephant puppet. How he could control so many was beyond Tigress, but control them he did. She had to duck as a tidal wave of puppets flew towards her and Po, and then charge the Puppet Master while his puppets came back after them. He kept his elephant standing to the left of him with a broadsword in hand, ready to defend himself if they got too close.

Before they could even get within twenty feet of him, the elephant puppet stomped the ground, creating a tremendous shockwave that shook the ground and almost knocked them off their feet. Then it flew through the air much faster than a real elephant possibly could and began rapidly swinging the gargantuan broadsword in deadly, wild swings. The rest of the puppets descended upon them with even greater speed.

 _How is he controlling them now?_ Wondered Tigress. _I can't see any wires above, but he's using his wires to make them fight us._

She dashed between the legs of the elephant puppet a second before it cut her in two with its broadsword, and to her dismay, discovered another row of puppets on the other side, between her and Sârmă. They all carried spears, which they thrust in her direction in perfect synchronicity. Tigress batted the three closest weapons away and executed a perfect leap over their wooden forms. The Puppet Master was right beneath her now as she soared down to strike him, her fist extended before her.

There was a flash of movement in front of Sârmă, and one of his spear-wielding puppets appeared in front of him, brandishing the point upwards. Tigress couldn't stop herself from falling, so she had no choice but to curl into a ball in midair. The puppet's spear, which would have pierced her through the heart and killed her instantly, plunged into the area just below her shoulder, the iron head burying itself in her flesh and out her back. She gasped in pain and shock, right before another puppet came up and kicked her off of the spear, sending her flying back through the air in a spray of blood.

Tigress hit the ground hard, the wind rushing out from her lungs. "Tigress!" Po shouted, coming up and crouching beside her. A darker stain than the red vest she was wearing was rapidly spreading from her terrible wound. "Tigress, please, hang on for me, please."

"Po... behind you." Was all she was able to get out. Po looked over his shoulder to see a wall of puppets coming at him. He tried to duck under them but was too slow. Far too slow. They knocked him off his feet and he landed ten feet away from her. The puppets converged on him again, their weapons extended to impale him with a thousand blades.

"Po..." Tigress struggled to stand up. Though it took longer than it should have, she was able to get on her feet again. Blood loss and pain was making her limbs unsteady, blurring her vision, weakening her. She ran as fast as she could and grabbed his paw, dragging him out of the path of Sârmă's puppets a second before they landed where he had been.

"Tigress, you have to run away." Po said. "Find Master Shifu and tell him what happened here. He has to know."

"I'm not leaving you." Tigress snarled, dragging him to his feet, almost stumbling from his weight.

"Just go, Tigress! Or else Shifu will never know what happened to us! It's better to lose one than both."

Tigress knew she had no other choice, but she would be damned if she fled while her friend stayed and died. Po let go of her paw and shoved her away with force. Emerald and amber locked together, Tigress's eyes burning with rage, Po's with pleading. "Run, Tigress." He said, as the puppets came rushing towards him again. "I love you."

The puppets converged on him all at once and buried him under their masses.

Then she was running back through the bamboo, not knowing where she was going, and not caring. Her blood was draining fast, and in her half-delirious state of blood loss she saw puppets gazing at her behind every tree, every rock, their mocking eyes berating her for leaving Po behind. Eventually she burst out of the woods, onto a road. Clutching her shoulder wound tightly, feeling more of her lifeblood seep out of it, unable to go on any further. Gasping for breath, she fell to her knees, trying to fight the black that was closing around her vision. Po's emerald eyes were the last thing she thought of before she plunged into the void of unconsciousness.

...

Po struggled to breathe under the wooden army that was piled on top of him. He didn't think that any of their weapons had pierced him, but he was unsure. The puppets had hit him so hard that he was pretty sure he had been killed on impact. He just hoped Tigress got away, he didn't care about anything else right now. But wait... if he was dead, then whose voice was that, guttural and growling, sounding above the rising white noise in his ears? It definitely wasn't the Puppet Master.

"How predictable... I expected so much more from the Dragon Warrior."

Then Po passed out.


	8. Crucifixion

"Ah, finally... he's starting to wake up. And not a second too soon."

The darkness began relenting for the Dragon Warrior, but his mind felt muddled, disoriented, as though he had a blanket tossed over his head. The only thing he could feel at this moment was a blazing agony, as though he were being constantly stung by a colossal hornet. There was a metallic _clanging_ sound close by his head, and the pain intensified with every interval. Po struggled to open his eyes but was unsuccessful the first two tries. On his third attempt, he was able to partially open them, but there was no clearer indication as to where he was than when his eyes were closed.

He was in a dark, stone room, faintly lit by a torch at the back wall, and he realized that he was on his feet, but he couldn't move his hands. There was someone standing in front of him, hammering away at something with a mallet just to the right of his head. That explained the clanging sound. Po turned his face toward the figure, feeling the stiffness in his neck as roughly as though it were wrapped in chains. The hammer-wielding figure was pretty damn weird looking. He was a golden leopard, wearing a strange mask that didn't look like anything from China, and he seemed to be wearing a rucksack with things hanging from the sticks that jutted out of it. Po's gaze drifted down the leopards arm to what he was hammering at. What he saw made his eyes shoot wide open and gasp.

He was hammering a large nail.

Through the centre of Po's hand.

His gaze shot to his other paw and he saw that a similar nail had been driven through the flesh and to the wooden arm behind it. He was being nailed to a cross. "Ah!" Po cried out. "What the hell are you doing?"

The leopard ignored him and continued nailing him to the cross as casually as if he were stirring a pot of soup. The pain was indescribable, white-hot motes of torment burning holes into him. The masked man stopped his hammering and inspected the nail. Then, seemingly satisfied with the result, he stepped back and stood watching the panda writhe on the cross, enjoying his agony. Po could hear his heavy breathing; not from exhaustion or poor health, but excitement.

"You've done a wonderful job, Dubaku." said an abnormal, phlegm-filled voice, the same one he had heard before he'd lost consciousness. "I can see you have plenty of experience nailing people to wooden objects."

The leopard known as Dubaku bowed his head. "I accept your praise with pride, my Lord and Master."

There was another figure in the room, sitting on what looked like a throne in front of the torch at the back wall. He hadn't been there before. In the darkness, Po couldn't make out any of his features except for two curved horns jutting out of the entity's head. In the sinister, dancing firelight, he looked like a demon straight from the hellish depths of the underworld, enjoying his suffering with sadistic pleasure.

"You seem to have gotten yourself into quite the predicament, Dragon Warrior." said the silhouette. A dry, ugly sound soon followed- the monster's laughter. "If only your Tigress were here to watch. Oh, how it would _upset_ her to see you like this."

"What have you done with Tigress?" Po demanded, rage burning brighter than the agony in his hands.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Po could sense the creature grinning. "The Puppet Master gave her a most grievous wound, nothing could survive it. She will have surely bled out by now. The worms will enjoy feeding on her flesh. They are quite ravenous, hmmm?"

Po didn't believe that Tigress was dead for a second. She had only sustained a shoulder wound, after all. But Po could recall how much blood she had lost in the few seconds after she had received the injury. Even in her weakened state, surely his distraction would have bought her enough time to get to the Valley. She would be back to rescue him with the rest of the Furious Five to kick these lunatic's asses. Po didn't know how they'd find their way back to where he was, but he knew they would. He had to have some hope.

"Master," came a hauntingly familiar voice. The Puppet Master stepped out of the shadows, his arms hanging loosely by his sides. "May I go after the other one? The Master Tigress? We could have a lot of fun with her before we kill her. Make her pain legendary."

"No, no, no." said the Master. "I think we've already got that covered. Don't worry, Sârmă, I'm sure she's in a lot of pain right now, if she's even still alive. Not as much as we'd like, granted, but we already have this one in our loving embrace. I'm sure his Grandmaster would miss him, too. Enough to come looking for him."

Po needed a plan, and quickly. Tigress would've had a plan, if their positions were reversed. _Come on, think, Po, think!_ They hadn't nailed his feet to the cross, but if he kicked out, then the weight would cause the nails to tear his hands in half. Then he wouldn't be able to fight, and he'd bleed to death. That would be more than a little counter-productive.

"It seems a shame to let her die on her own after all that effort." The Puppet Master sighed, his gaze downcast. "I could still make a puppet based on her body, but without her corpse, it won't be as resplendent as I had hoped. Besides, I'm sure Dubaku would appreciate having another corpse to satisfy his desires."

"Indeed," said Dubaku. "I have hacked my own personal collection to mush already, and we need the villager's bodies in good condition for our pilgrimage. If she was as beautiful as you said, it would bring me great pleasure to see such beauty fade beneath my claws."

"Alright, alright, settle down," said their Master. "Mèng is looking for her body, although with how distracted that child always is with his dreamworld, it'll probably be up to that gypsy, whatever-her-name-is, to find it."

"Guys," Po interrupted. "I know it's a foreign concept to you, but _think._ Tigress got away. She'll be coming back to rescue me with the rest of the Furious Five behind her. You don't stand a chance against them."

Suddenly, the figure in the throne was out of the shadows and standing inches away from Po's face. He was hideous beyond anything from the panda's worst nightmares. A mountain goat, maybe, but his face had no eyelids, lips, or cheeks, and only sparse patches of mangy hair provided any form of coverage for his pallid, scabby skin. He reeked of an ancient, musty tomb, and his tattered robes were in no better condition than the rest of his body.

"Let them come." The monster's breath smelled like rotting meat and open graves. "Let them die."

...

"So, I take it Shi Renzu escaped as well?" Shifu asked his students as they made their way back to the Valley of Peace down the road they had come down. They hadn't stopped to rest once since their battle, and they were beginning to feel exhaustion creeping into their bones, despite their lifetime of harsh training. The sky was starting to lighten, heralding the arrival of dawn on the horizon. The red panda and the four he was travelling with were disheartened by their failure to catch the two madmen who had committed the massacre of the village.

"I'm sorry, Master Shifu." Crane said. "But he kind of, you know, vanished before our eyes."

"I'm afraid that Dubaku did the same thing with me," Shifu said. "Whoever this 'Master' of theirs is, he must be incredibly powerful to be able to make his servants disappear."

Dubaku's last words to Shifu before he had vanished rang again in the red panda's ears. _Enjoy the rest of your infinitesimally short life. For in the next few days, your beloved Valley of Peace will have seen its last dawn. Its last!_ Such ominous words, and they rang with the promise of prophecy. Shifu would have to tell his students about this, but he'd rather wait until Po and Tigress were with them, so he wouldn't have to repeat himself.

Though they had chased off the lunatics, the feeling that something bad was about to happen hadn't faded for any of them. They didn't discuss it amongst themselves, but some things they didn't need to voice to each other to know. "What do you think they're gonna do with those bodies?" Mantis asked from his perch on Monkey's shoulder, but no one had any idea. For all they knew, they just killed those people for the pleasure of watching them die.

"This isn't the last we've seen of them, of that we can be certain." Shifu finally said after a long moment of silence. No one spoke for a long time after that, too lost in their own thoughts. They were nearing the Valley of Peace; when they reached the top of a hill, they could see it less than a mile away. Shifu had tread this path so many times that he was more than familiar with it. By now, the sun had made its presence, peeking fearfully above the tops of the bamboo.

They began making their way down the rise, noticing the absence of the morning birds singing their cheerful songs. Despite the rising sun, the land still seemed to be cast in a grey shroud that did nothing to lift their mood. Down the road, Shifu saw something lying in the dirt, but he was too far away to see what it was. He picked up his pace, the others noticing and following his lead, and they too saw what he did. It was a person, lying face down in the road and surrounded by a pool of fresh blood. Horrifyingly enough, it was a person they all knew too well.

"Tigress!" Shifu ran towards his adoptive daughter and knelt by her side, ignoring the blood that seeped through his robes. She had a deadly wound just beneath her left shoulder, wide and slowly oozing red. He could see the ground through the hole. Her claws had been torn as though she had ran a great distance across a hard surface with them unsheathed, only adding to the crimson pool around her. The four other members of the Furious Five gathered around their felled leader. "She's not dead," Mantis said, beating Shifu to it. "She's still bleeding; that's not something dead bodies do. But she's been laying here for a while."

"Crane," Shifu said, struggling to remain calm. "You can get to the Valley of Peace faster than any of us. Take her to the healer, quickly, or she will die!"

Crane frantically nodded, grabbing Tigress by the shoulders, taking a great deal of care to avoid the wound, and took off into the air, flying as fast as his burden would allow him. Shifu and the others took off as fast as they could toward their home, their earlier tiredness forgotten. "What the hell did Po get them into?" Monkey said.

"I doubt if this was the panda's fault at all," Shifu said. "But we must go looking for him as soon as Master Tigress is taken care of. I doubt if he will have stayed behind in the village and let her go alone."

"Yeah, Po wouldn't miss any chance for some action, 'specially when Tigress is going." Monkey responded.

"Which raises the question of where the Dragon Warrior is as of this moment."

...

The Master chuckled darkly at Po's horrified expression upon seeing his face. When his mouth opened, the panda could see something squirm between his teeth, but his vision was going blurry from the pain, so he couldn't see what it was.

"Ah, the sweet taste of fear," said the mountain goat. "I tell you, nothing is more intoxicating than watching the realization of imminent death form on your victim's face. I wish you could experience it, I really do. Unfortunately, the worms hunger for your yielding flesh and succulent blood, so full of _life._ "

The Master licked his lips, and instead of a tongue coming out of his maw, a black worm slithered out. The segmented body extended to Po's left hand and began caressing the blood that was pouring from the wound. He shuddered at its touch. It was cold as ice and slimy, calling to his mind images of crepuscular horrors that had no place in this world. The worm quickly retracted and squirmed its way back into his tormentor's mouth.

" _Yes_ ," the Master let out a satisfied growl. "I feel your energy, coursing through your body. The worms will burrow into your flesh, and have their feast. Your fate is sealed, but I won't kill you just yet. After all, there is something I need that you have."

"What..." Po spluttered "what could I have that the likes of you would want?"

"Oh, did your beloved Master Shifu never tell you? Did he really seek to keep you in the darkness of ignorance forever?" The Master pressed his face close to Po's. "No, no. I think you're lying to me. I feel its power on you, calling to me from the places between the worlds. They, they _beg_ to be free, to know what it means to be _alive."_ He turned around and took a few steps away. Then he teleported again right in front of Po's face.

"GIVE ME MY URN BACK!" he roared. "Over fifty years I have schemed, hidden away from the fragile eyes and minds of you mortals. But no more. Give me my urn, and I can promise you a swift death, though it will be painful. Refuse, and there will be no end to your suffering. If your Tigress survived the Puppet Master's attack, I will bring her here and make you watch as I devour her while she still lives."

"You're not gonna do anything to her." Po said defiantly, meeting the Master's gaze, not letting any more fear show on his expression.

"It is _so beautiful_ to see one who is willing to die for someone he loves. Isn't it, Dubaku?" he turned to the leopard, who was cradling a feline skull in his arms and singing softly to it. He looked up. "Indeed it is, my Master."

"See? Even a madman agrees with me." The Master laughed. "Alright, no more fucking around. This is the last time I ask you nicely."

"You call hurting my friend and crucifying me asking _nicely?_ "

"You haven't even begun to feel true pain, not yet. I'm going to show you what that feels like. Nothing is more addicting than the throes of blinding agony. Sârmă, bring me my bucket."

The Puppet Master bowed and slowly backed away into the shadows. "I hear and obey, Master." They waited for a few more moments, before the white-faced saki monkey reemerged from the darkness. He was carrying a large terracotta pot. He turned it upside down, and something heavy and wet fell out of it. Po's breath caught in his throat. It was a dead infant, mutilated to the point of being unrecognizable, but it looked like it might have once been a bear cub. He trudged over to the Master and held out the now-empty pot to him.

"Good, good," then the 'mountain goat' turned and began fiddling with it, blocking it with his body so that Po couldn't see what he was doing. _Now's my chance._ Thought Po. _I've got to get the hell away from these monsters!_

His gaze turned toward his left hand, the one that had been nailed to the cross first. He had no idea how he was going to escape even if he did get free, but he really didn't want to know what 'true pain' meant to them. He slowly began to push his hand down the rusty nail, his mouth tightening into a straight line as his agony became increasingly powerful. _Come on, come on, almost there._ The head of the nail was going to be the most painful to get past, as it would tear his flesh and make a bigger hole in his paw, but it was the only way.

"Face it, Po, you can't escape from my clutches." The Master turned his head to look at the panda. _Well, there goes that plan._ "There! My apologies for keeping you waiting, but some things just can't be rushed, hmmm?"

He stood up with the terracotta pot clutched in his hands and brought it over to him. Po looked down into it and his heart stopped for a moment. It was filled with black, writhing worms, hungrily squirming about. They smelled even worse than the cadaveric mountain goat.

"Look, you really don't want to do-" Po began, but then his captor interrupted him.

"Don't worry, these worms have been starved for quite a while now. They secrete a substance that will prevent your blood from flowing out from the wounds they will make when they burrow into your flesh and feast on your insides."

Then he dunked the pot over Po's head.


	9. Rip

The breath of Pangu aided Crane in his desperate flight back to the Valley. He knew a healer there, one of the most skilled in China, who had to be able to help Tigress. Crane had seen him bring a man from the brink of death back to the living. His name was Min and he was probably the only person who could save her now. Fortunately, his shop was near the edge of town, right by the entrance that they would have gone through anyways.

Not for the first time, he wondered where Po was. Surely the panda would have went with Tigress to wherever she had been injured. Maybe he had been captured. It was something he'd have to worry about _after_ he got her to the healer. It was hard to avoid widening the wound that was just beneath her left shoulder. His claws, as careful as he was with her, were already soaked with blood. _Come on Tigress, don't die!_

The Valley was only about two hundred feet away now, but it might as well be miles away. Crane had to pick up his pace. His wide wingspan flapping so fast it was a blur, he propelled himself across a sky that was starting to turn red. A faint whisper of sound and motion made him turn his head to see an arrow flying right over his shoulder. Someone was shooting at him!

Crane rose a few feet into the air, making another one that was aimed directly at Tigress miss by a hairsbreadth. Another one came, then another, and another. The avian was hard-pressed to dodge them all; he couldn't risk deflecting them with the burden he was carrying. He had no choice but to fly forward as fast as he could, relying on his instincts to know when another arrow was coming. Only one more came, and then all was silent. He lowered his altitude when he saw the bold hanzi of Min's shop and carefully lowered Tigress to the ground.

Crane knocked on the door and went to inspect her wound again. The flow of blood had remarkably slowed, but he was sure that wasn't a good thing. He was about to knock again when the door to Min's shop opened and a small figure stepped out. "Master Crane, is that you?" said the sable as he came out of the threshold. He caught sight of the feline lying on the ground, and gasped before Crane could even speak. "Master Tigress! Help me bring her in, quickly! There's a cot inside to lay her down on."

Between the two of them, they were able to carry her into the cool shadow of Min's shop and lay her on the cot that was laid out among cabinets and chests filled with herbs, medicines, and instruments of every variety. Min was frantically gathering the supplies he would need into a small basket, muttering under his breath to himself. "Will she live, Min?" Crane asked as the sable finished whatever he was doing and went to Tigress and began inspecting the wound. He looked to Crane with a grim expression but didn't give an answer.

"Well?"

"I... I don't know." Min admitted as he carefully poured alcohol onto the wound. "She has lost so much blood, she should be dead already. I won't lie to you, friend; I don't think she will live, but I will do everything I can to help her."

Though his words made a hollow pit of despair form in Cranes belly, he forced himself to nod. "I know. Thank you for doing this, Min."

"How did she receive this wound? It had to have been made an hour or two ago."

"We have no idea. We just found her lying in the road like this. The Dragon Warrior was nowhere to be seen. Do you know where he might be?"

"Alas," said the sable as he worked. "I do not. I did see him last night though, with Master Tigress. They went to see the Puppet Master's show. A splendid performance, I must admit."

"Puppet Master?"

"Yes. Sârmă of Wallachia, I think his name was. Strange man, but very good with his puppets. You'd almost think they were alive."

Crane began thinking. The two of them went to the Puppet Master's show, and then Po vanishes and Tigress turns up like this, outside the village? It was safe to assume that Sârmă was the one responsible for that. It wasn't very likely any of the villagers would be able to put a hurt on those two. He also wondered when the panda had developed the mind control powers to convince Tigress to go to a puppet show.

"Do you know where I can find this guy?"

"Hm. No, I don't. His stage had vanished in the next ten minutes after the show. How he did that is beyond me. Why? Are you implying that he did this to Master Tigress?"

"I'm not sure. But I intend to find out."

...

There hadn't been as many worms as Po had originally thought.

There was only about four or five of the squirmy bastards, each one about six feet long. They fell out of the pot and onto the panda's head and shoulders, writhing blindly around. Po began struggling. "Ew, ew, ew, ew!" He shouted as he fought to throw them off. The worms, realizing that their perch was a living creature, bit into him. They spat out their mouths into a conical shape lined with sharp teeth, which latched onto his flesh and then quickly burrowed.

"AHHH!" He screamed as the worms forced a portion of their bodies into the wounds they made, the whole of their segmented lengths coiled around his upper body. They began to gorge themselves on his blood, their bodies swelling as the crimson liquid rushed into their systems. He felt their teeth and the sliminess of them as they tore their way through his muscles and towards his vital organ. The pain was unbearable, far worse than the crucifixion or anything he had felt before. The feeling of the worms inside of him would have been nightmarish even without the agony. A black veil was slowly shrouding his vision, and he felt his head droop. _Oh no, I'm dying..._

The worms burrowed deeper into him, consuming blood and tissue with unholy gusto. Their teeth tore open muscles as they progressed, occasionally bursting out of his skin before vanishing again. The pain was being replaced quickly with white noise and numbness. Over the sound of his agony, he could hear the maniacal cackling of his captor. The world was spinning around him, laughing at his misfortune, beckoning him to death. He felt fangs carve into the deepest parts of his soul, his heart and then retract.

"Oh, what's this?" The Master growled. His voice jerked Po out of his deathly reverie. He had his face less than an inch from the panda's. "Is that the Hero's Chi I taste in your blood?"

Po said nothing, only glared at him with all the hatred and anger he could muster.

"Yes, I think it is." He threw his head back and laughed. "Not even the worms suspected this turn of events. Aren't you pandas just full of surprises? I never would have thought that _you,_ a fat panda, would possess the Mark of the Ancients." The worms uncoiled themselves from Po's neck and went up the Master's sleeves when he outstretched his arm towards them. His raspy voice then took a darker, more sinister tone. "Indeed, a most wondrous surprise."

When the worms left his body, Po began to bleed from the gaping graters they had made. By the time he was able to blink, the white noise and approaching blindness overtook him again. "Sârmă, get me a couple vials of the Water. We're losing him fast." came the Master's voice over the silent cacophony. At the back of Po's mind, he thought he heard footsteps moving slowly away. The veil was closing in again, chasing away his pain and filling the void with blissful silence. He was beginning to lose his resistance, now only desiring the sweet release.

Suddenly, something icy cold was splashed on his chest, and his eyes shot wide open. The pain had vanished instantly, and when Po looked down, the numerous holes that the worms made were closing. He stared in shock and wonder, ideas beginning to form in his head. _It's the potion that Sârmă healed himself with,_ he realized. _I've gotta get that vial from them somehow!_ Clearly they had only used a little bit of it, because the wounds were still there, just smaller. The potion had probably mostly healed the tissue that had been eaten.

"Wakey wakey, Dragon Warrior." The Master's malodorous breath greeted Po's re-arrival into the living world. "Can't have you dying on us, now. You'll miss the fun! So much fun..." He lowered his head and began to pace back and forth, muttering words in a strange language. Not paying attention to him. The panda gently began to push his left hand down the nail again, wincing as the intense pain greeted him once more. His paw was almost at the head, where he could rip it off the cross and have one hand free. Just another inch...

A clear liquid was splashed onto his left hand, filling his entire body with a strange warmth. He began to scream as his flesh was rapidly healed over the iron of the nail. "Can't get out that way." The Master said in a singsong voice, holding a vial carved of smooth, yellowed bone. Esoteric runes were drawn all around its circumference, countless scriptures vying for supremacy on the painstakingly carved landscape.

"Killing you will just be a waste." his tormentor snarled. "With that Hero's Chi of yours, you will be far more useful to us alive than dead. I had every intention of devouring you and that tiger girl you were with, but now I'm going to leave you here for your friends to find. I think... I think I want to kill you _again._ I want to meet you on the open fields of battle and hear your screams as I strip the flesh from your bones. I will paint that cursed palace with your blood, and write my symphony on your skins."

Then, with an abrupt change of manner, he turned to his two acolytes. "Sârmă, it is time for us to go. Tabula Rasa and Mèng are waiting for us outside. Dubaku, you will stay behind and perform that ritual we spoke of before. If you need more of the Water to ensure the panda doesn't die, then you know where to get it from. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, Master." Dubaku whispered, gently stroking the skull he was holding.

"Does this mean that Tabula Rasa was successful in recovering Master Tigress's body?" asked the Puppet Master.

"No, no, no. She failed, just as the worms said she would. Besides, why ruin all the fun so early in our pilgrimage? We'll catch her later, and I will let you have her all to yourself. Come now, we must hurry. Daylight's burning."

"Yes, Master."

Po almost smiled. Tigress had survived the wound Sârmă had given her. Not that he expected anything less, but he had still been worried when he saw all that blood. He just had to hold out for a little bit longer. He slowly began to push his right hand down the nail, just like with his left, turning his hand to whittle down the flesh to provide a clearer passage. The Master and Sârmă turned and vanished through a doorway, a faint rectangle in the black. Po hadn't seen it there before. Their voices echoed down the passage, reaching the panda's ears as they departed. _Good, now I just need to take care of this guy._

Dubaku slowly stood and pulled out a silk cloth from his rucksack. Silently, gently, he wrapped up the skull with it and placed it with equal care where he'd gotten the cloth from. "We are finally alone." the leopard said to Po, not looking at him. "The spirits have taken an interest in you, young panda. Even the god of the worms has decided to spare your life for now. I do hope when the time comes, that he lets me keep both you and your tiger friend's bodies. Only in death is true beauty revealed."

Dubaku produced a blade from the folds of his long skirt whilst muttering under his breath. The dagger was carved from solid bone, like the vial his Master had left him. He flipped the pot that had held the worms upside down and set the vial down on it. Even though the darkness was unbroken by only a few torches, Po could see that the vial was half empty. _I can't let him use any more of that cool healing stuff. I'm gonna need every last drop._

The African leopard pushed the point of the ceremonial blade into his chest, drops of blood forming before its touch. Po winced, but Dubaku simply dragged the dagger across, staining his immaculate fur in red. "She watches," he said. "The goddess, Mawu. She gazes upon us now, from the great celestial fields. Do not be afraid. Soon, you and all of your friends will know the ecstasy of negation, the fathomless peace that death will bestow upon you."

"Oh, uh... that's... cool, I guess." Po replied, only half listening. The leopard hadn't noticed what he was doing yet. His right paw was practically pouring blood as he slid his hand up the nail, towards the head. _Man, it's gonna suck having to get my hand past_ that.

Dubaku stopped doodling in his flesh with the knife and set it on the pot, next to the elixir of life. He pressed two fingers to one of his wounds and then began drawing strange shapes on the floor whilst chanting in a language the bear had never heard before. He was so concentrated on his dubious mission that Po was able to get his hand up to the head of the nail. _Alright, alright, close your eyes, take deep breaths, then... PUSH!_

Po's hand burst off of the nail with a wet popping sound, splattering even more blood onto the floor. He grabbed the one that his left hand had healed over and struggled with all of his might. The nail came free with his paw still sticking through it. "Ow!" Po yelled at the top of his lungs.

"No! The ritual is not done. It is not done!" Dubaku shouted, running over to him with claws unsheathed. Po's belly bounced him away, sending him flying and thudding against the wall. Without wasting another second, he staggered over to the vial, feeling even more blood draining from the holes in his hands. With his fumbling, numb hands it took a few seconds to pop the cork off and splash some on his left hand. The pain vanished instantaneously as a feeling of warmth encased his body and the ragged, bleeding hole closed itself before his eyes. Dubaku was suddenly in front of him before he could rip the nail out of his other paw, slashing wildly at his face and stomach. His deadly claws scored through Po's fur and flesh, but he was able to deflect most of the blows.

The leopard clearly didn't have any kung fu training; his movements lacked the graceful choreography and controlled power of the fighting style. His speed and ferocity, however, was more than a match for his training. Even with the Water, Po still was weak from blood loss and pain, but he was able to deflect many of the blows Dubaku threw at him and even land a few of his own. Po grabbed an outstretched paw and kicked his antagonist in the chest, sending him flying backward.

The panda grabbed the nail that was still protruding from his left hand and pulled with force, gasping as the healed flesh around the iron ripped and spilled more blood out. With an even more sickening sound than the last one, the nail came free into Po's hand. He splashed the rest of the Water onto the cut and turned to face Dubaku again, wielding the large nail like a dagger.

"Alright, you've had it easy so far." Po said. "Get ready to feel the thunder!"

Dubaku snarled wordlessly and leaped at the panda, a gold and red mass of fur, claws and fangs. His blows rained down on Po, gouging deep lacerations that leaked carmine. There were far too many for him to dodge or block all at once, but he did his damnedest to make sure he took as little as possible. He used the nail like a punch dagger, extending between his fingers like the fang of some monstrous beast. The leopard leaped over his head and landed behind him, spinning around in a full 360 with his claws outstretched, opening another slew of bleeding canyons on Po's back. _Looks like he's trying to make me collapse from blood loss, or something. Well it's not gonna work on the Dragon Warrior._

Dubaku ducked as the panda spun around and threw a solid punch. The leopard moved so quickly that he apparently forgot about the blood on the floor and slipped. He fell to the ground and Po took advantage of this, rewarding the person who had crucified him with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head. He was propelled away with the sound of wood splintering, a large piece of his mask breaking off and flying into the darkness. He hit the ground running, his ruined mask even more fearsome than it had been whole. The bottom left side of it had broken off, revealing part of his mouth and livid white teeth that were bared in a snarl. The panda already knew what to do seconds before he even reached him.

Po brought the nail up and drove it straight through the leopard's left shoulder, burying it in halfway. He didn't cry out, only grabbed the nail and pulled it out, blood spurting from this wound. The panda realized that he hadn't gotten him in the shoulder, but just below it. Right where Tigress had been stabbed by Sârmă. With a punch that could probably shatter bones and a "Skadoosh!" Po's fist caught Dubaku in the face. He staggered back from the force of it and fell to his knees, clutching the bloody nail in his paws. The flow of blood from his chest wounds was still flowing slightly, but it could now be made out that he had carved symbols on his chest. Staring at them hurt Po's eyes after a while.

"Such weakness in this fragile shell," Dubaku said, almost mournfully as he applied pressure to his injury. "One day, the gates of immortality shall open up to greet me. Can you hear the spirits now, Dragon Warrior? Feel their presence? They are the harbingers of what will come. What will come for all of you! If you thought the pain you felt in here was unbearable, then I am eager to see your suffering when the Master beckons from the darkness."

"Yeah, speaking of him." said Po. "What's his name? Just so I know what to say when I'm kicking his wormy butt back to the underworld."

Dubaku smiled. Not in a nice way. "You have yet to earn the privilege of knowing his title. He is the manifestation of the dead's silenced anger, the epitome of hatred and bloodlust. He is the darkness when a light is quenched, the silence when a heartbeat fades. He is the beginning and end of all things, alive and inanimate.

"He... is death itself." Dubaku finished his little speech and he slowly stood up without breaking his dark smile. "And soon, even Mawu will tremble in his presence."

"Huh. Well that sounded pretty cool, I'll give you that. But you'll never beat us! We are the Dragon Warrior and the Furious Five, and we shall show you what awesomeness really means! Return to your Master and tell him to get ready for the thunder! Hiya!" Po kicked the air for emphasis. He paused. "Actually, I take that back. I'm gonna have to take you to Chor-gom prison now, so... yeah."

Dubaku laughed. "Your precious justice will be null and void in the next few days. This world will succumb to _his_ glory, and we, his sentinels, will bask in an orgy of blood. Your suffering is only beginning now. Farewell, Dragon Warrior! The Master calls, and I hearken." With a flash of blindingly fast movement, he threw the nail with all his might and it buried itself in Po's foot. "Ah! What'd you do that for?" He yelled, hopping around on one foot after pulling it out, but then he realized Dubaku was gone.

"No!" Po cried. "How do they always manage to get away?" He looked to the only doorway in the room, the one the Master and Sârmă had gone through. He couldn't see anything through it, but it was the only way anyone could have gotten out of this room. Limping along, leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him, he trudged into the shadows. Adrenaline had enervated his pain considerably, but now it was coming back with a vengeance. He wondered if that healing Water restored blood as well as tissue. It had to, or else he'd be dead now.

The memories of the last hour played again in his head. Him being crucified, ripping himself off of the cross, and then beating a loony to the dust. He had breached the borders of being awesome and was now a certified badass. "Alright!" He yelled enthusiastically. "You hear me, Dubaku? The Dragon Warrior is hunting you down! I will not stop until you are in the iron fist of justice."

Po's enthusiasm quickly faded away. His adversary had given him many, many wounds, and he was losing a lot of blood now. _Man, where's some magical healing water when you need it?_ His limping slowed his progress a bit, and the fact that he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face didn't help, either. At least this passage was just a straight tunnel sloping gently upwards. When he touched the wall, it felt like it was a naturally formed dirt wall.

It felt like the world was beginning to spin for Po, slowly at first, and then faster, faster. He struggled up the tunnel as fast as he could, but his legs were beginning to go numb and weaken. _How long is this damn tunnel?_ It already felt like he'd been walking up this tunnel for hours, but surely it was only a few minutes? It eventually got to the point where Po had to drag himself up, motivated only by the thought of seeing his friends once more.

 _Huh?_ Po thought as he felt an icy breath of wind caress his face. He looked around, and realized that though it was still dark in the cramped, sepulchral tunnels, it wasn't pitch black anymore. In fact, he could see a few rays of light shining up ahead. Struggling to push himself even further, he stood up and began walking towards the exit, powered only by willpower now. It felt like the tunnel was made of salt and Po was an open wound. He could feel blood dripping through his fur, staining white with red. Dizziness threatened to topple him over, but he used everything in his power to stay upright.

Po stumbled out of the cavern, panting, and then collapsed into the dirt. He couldn't go any further. _It can't be good, laying in the dirt with all these cuts. I should probably..._ Trying to get himself up again, he managed to stand up onto his feet and took a few more steps before collapsing.

It wasn't the hard packed dirt he had been expecting. He landed with a splash that jerked him awake again, and he gasped as his head went under the gelid water. He burst out of the surface, spluttering as the icy wetness chilled him to the bone. He looked around and realized that he was in a pool of water that was as clear as air but there were no sources as to where the water came from. The pool was surrounded by large black stones about as tall as he was. They definitely weren't natural, but they were far too smooth and perfectly carved to even be manmade. It looked like he was on some kind of rock overhang that stretched out over a yawning vista. He could see the Valley of Peace.

The cold water had numbed the pain that had almost consumed him, so much that he didn't even feel anything anymore. "Wow, icy water can do wonders for pain. I wonder..." He looked down, and realized that it wasn't the cold that had arrested all of his feeling.

The lacerations, the hole in his foot and the partly healed craters that the Master's worms had made. They were all gone. He had discovered the source of their healing magic.


	10. Slaughterhouse Council

Shi Renzu bit into the flesh of the young gorilla, growling as the intoxicating taste of blood filled his mouth. His prey, which he felt no need to kill just yet, was tied to a tree with the intestines of his brother, whom he had ended mere seconds earlier. He had had to rip out the living gorilla's tongue because the sound of his screaming was starting to get on his nerves. He had driven his gargantuan cleaver into the ground, as its size made it too hard to keep his food in one piece.

The two gorilla brothers, in their utter foolishness, had thought that their numbers would mean an instant victory for them. At the Master's command, Shi Renzu had been in the process of taking down the bodies that Sârmă had hung up in the bamboo, so that they could take them to their true hideout. It was then the two brother bandits had ambushed him. The result of their folly was that one had to watch the other one be eaten alive and be powerless to stop it. Shi Renzu jerked his head back, tearing off a massive chunk of flesh, causing the weakling to flinch and his eyes to fill with tears, unable to scream. There was nothing in this world more succulent to him than the sweet taste of forbidden flesh.

"You are stupid," Shi Renzu growled to the other gorilla, blood still dripping down his face. "Mess with the bull, you get the horns. Mess with _me,_ you get eaten. You get eaten anyway."

Of course, the fool didn't respond to him, struggling to get away from his slavering jaws and ravenous hunger. But of course, there was no escape for him. Despite Shi Renzu's boulder-sized hands, he could tie a stronger knot than most other people he knew. True, he did kill most of the people he knew, but he was still better than them at tying knots. Only five souls had the gall to speak with him, and only five souls he let live. Those were the ones he was waiting for, the Master among them.

Shi Renzu was about to take another bite out of the young gorilla, this one from his stomach, when he felt a chilling presence seconds before something shot out over his shoulder and struck his prey right in the heart. It was an arrow, completely unremarkable except for the barbed head which was designed to cut shallowly and leave wide wounds that bled profusely when ripped out. Shi Renzu roared in outrage, spinning around and reaching for his cleaver, knowing only Dubaku used arrows like that. But it wasn't Dubaku who had stolen his kill from him.

"Oh, Shi Renzu dear, don't tell me you skipped breakfast again." Said a woman's voice, as sweetly as a knife dipped in honey. There was a faint accent to it; not strong like Dubaku's or even Sârmă's. The figure was watching from the bamboo, tall and slender, hidden by the shadows. There was a much smaller figure standing next to her, like a child sticking with its mother.

His hand relaxed on the handle of his cleaver, and he let his arm fall to his side. These two people were the only ones who could stir fear in his cold, black heart, besides the Master himself. "Tabula Rasa, Mèng." Shi Renzu said, bowing his head to them.

Tabula Rasa's red eyes gleamed from the underbrush. "You heard the Master's call, did you?" She asked, a smile in her voice. "And you're hard at work gathering Dubaku's toys, I see. You know, the Master expects those all to be on the wagons by the time he arrives."

"Damn that smug feline," Shi Renzu snarled. "It's a waste of time, those rituals of his. Not to mention he's had sex with every corpse in his collection. If he weren't the Master's lapdog, I would feast on his bones!"

"Now, now," she tutted. "You know it's bad luck to threaten a priest, Shi Renzu. Tell me, have you finished gathering them all?"

"Almost." He said, shambling over to a nearby tree which had several bodies hanging from it. "To hell with that Puppet Master! Hanging our army from trees. He could have just piled them up, but no. Damn showoff." He reached up and pulled the corpses off one-by-one.

"You say 'damn' too damn much." said Tabula Rasa. "Have you ever considered extending your cursing vocabulary? The Master would be impressed if you said something more colourful than just 'damn' all the time."

"I don't think that kind of thing concerns the Master." Shi Renzu said as he pulled down another body and threw it in the half-full wagon which was off to the side. It landed with a wet plopping sound, one arm hanging limply over the side. He kicked it back in with a snarl aimed at the hidden female. "Why don't you come out of the shadows, _pretty-face_?"

"I never much cared for the sunlight. Besides, the Master will be here soon. Can't have you all drooling and lovestruck when he comes."

"And how correct you are!" exclaimed a raspy, guttural voice. "Have you finished collecting the bodies yet? You know how I don't like being kept waiting."

Shi Renzu, Tabula Rasa, and Mèng all fell to their knees and bowed to the 'mountain goat', their foreheads touching the ground. "Master." Tabula Rasa said. "You have returned to us." There he stood, like a god of death above condemned souls, the Puppet Master standing beside him.

"Only one more wagon needs to be filled, my Master." Shi Renzu said, not lifting his head. He gestured to the half eaten corpses. "There was a minor distraction."

"Ah, wonderful," the Master said in delight. "You've even prepared a table for us! We're going to need it. I have a new plan, you see. One I'm sure you'll love almost as much as our prey surely will."

Tabula Rasa looked up eagerly. "You do? I'm excited now. Please tell us about it."

"Not yet, not yet. We need Dubaku to be here before I can tell you anything. I don't like repeating myself, either." None of them pointed out that he repeated 'not yet', too afraid of what the consequence would be.

"He'd better hurry his cat ass up here." Shi Renzu growled. "I want to hear your new plan as much as Tabula Rasa does."

"Ah, don't be like that." the Master said. "Patience is a virtue, after all. He stayed behind to attach some spirits to the Dragon Warrior. True, the panda did stab him with his own nail before he could finish, but he'll be here in a few moments. And here he is now!"

Dubaku emerged from the underbrush, panting hard. He had carved symbols into his own chest, a necessity for his dark ritual. Part of his ceremonial mask had broken off, and the left side of his mouth was now visible. He bowed his head to the robed, skeletal figure. "My apologies, Master. The Dragon Warrior escaped, and I believe he found the Well."

"Exactly as the worms said would happen." the Master said. He walked over to the half-eaten gorilla and flipped the body over like it weighed little more than a feather. "Have a seat around the table, so you can hear my new plan."

The African leopard perked up right away. "Really?" He dashed to the face-down corpse and sat cross-legged on the ground. He dipped a claw in the pool of blood and tasted it, before allowing his golden gaze to sweep around the assembled madmen. "Here's your bow back, Dubaku" Tabula Rasa threw something long and white at him; he caught it one-handed and slung it over his shoulder in a single movement. His bow was made out of an elephant rib, torn from the same body that he had made his spear and dagger from.

"You failed." Was all Dubaku said, narrowing his eyes beneath his mask. She laughed. "And you weren't exactly successful in performing a ritual on a crucified dead man, were you?"

"Both of those incidents were meant to happen." The Master interrupted. "Now, no one is to be speaking when I am, so shut the fuck up." Everyone quieted down and turned their gaze to their grotesque leader. "Tabula Rasa, Mèng, why don't you come out of the shadows? It will make it easier for us to converse. You two will play an important role in this new plan, after all."

Mèng materialized from the shadows without a sound and sat down next to the Puppet Master. He was a child no older than seven, a gansu pika with a hood pulled low over his face, shrouding his visage in a black veil. Tabula Rasa was more hesitant about emerging from the bamboo, shuffling awkwardly. "If... if it is alright, Master, I would like to remain here. The sun and I are not on good terms."

"Get. Out. Here. Now." The Master bit off every word to add emphasis, a worm creeping out from under his eye and blindly writhing around. Gingerly, she stepped out of the shadows, shielding her eyes as the blinding rays shone directly on her face. She was a beautiful albino wolf, her red eyes like rubies forged in the underworld, her white fur gleaming like snow in the scintillant light. She wore a bright violet bolero with a blue corset beneath, as well as a red gathered skirt beneath a wide, low-hanging belt with a multitude of bells stitched to it. They made an exotic, mystical chiming sound whenever she walked. Tabula Rasa took a seat next to Mèng, who was staring at the ground, lost in his own world. He didn't look up or give any reaction to her presence whatsoever.

"Now," the Master began. "I'm sure you're all curious to hear my new plan." Those assembled around the 'table' nodded eagerly, with the exception of Mèng. "Our original intention was that Sârmă capture Po and Tigress of the Jade Palace, so that we could torture and kill them. Shred their corpses, hang them up on a clothesline for _all_ the valley to see." He took a deep breath, the thought already making him excited. "But now, Master Tigress survived, and is being treated by a healer. Min, was it? She will be kept alive long enough for the Dragon Warrior to get a vial of the Water and make her right as rain."

"How does that benefit us?" Shi Renzu asked.

"I'm glad you asked! It doesn't. But she had been holding back a bit on the Puppet Master, which was a fatal mistake for her, and took a lot of fun out of our conquest. And you saw the look on Po's face when I implied that she was dead. The anguish in his eyes... it was so _pure,_ a true testament of how much she means to him. So, that got me thinking; what better way to torment our enemies than to slaughter everyone they care about? Make them have nothing left to live for- and nothing left to lose." The Master's eyes lit up as he spoke, and he sucked saliva through his teeth as a strand of drool began dripping down his chin.

"Lady and gentlemen," the Master said, holding his arms outstretched. "Now is the time for reconnaissance. Surely each of the Furious Five have some kind of family, one that they would miss if they were horrifically maimed and left to die. They will be consumed by their grief and anger, and that will make them fight all the harder against us. You see, we've had it too easy, I think. Let's make them give their all in battle and beyond, so that we will have decent sport in our pilgrimage. When the time has come, there will be a feast the likes of which has never been seen before. We shall bathe in their blood, and turn those streets into rivers of crimson."

"So, strike at those closest to them, and kill the Five later." Tabula Rasa said, nodding with a smile. "I like it."

"I thought you would. The Furious Five, the Dragon Warrior, and the Grandmaster Shifu are not to be harmed until I give the order. The panda knows everything there is to know about his friends, and he is quite gullible and easy to trick, to say the least. With Master Tigress temporarily out of the count, it will be simple to get information out of him. Tabula Rasa, that will be your task. No one in this world can resist your seductive charm, and the Dragon Warrior will be no different."

"I see the wisdom in that." Tabula Rasa nodded. "Can I bring Mèng along? If this goes south, which is unlikely considering it's me, his abilities would be invaluable."

"One would think you two were joined at the hip." the Puppet Master sneered. He looked at his Master. "Can I go along as well? I want to have a second battle against the Dragon Warrior and Master Tigress. Even holding back their true power, they put up a far better fight than anyone in my glorious kingdom. The greatest masterpieces are those you have to work the hardest for."

"No." said the Master "This is to be an undercover mission, and you marching into the valley with an army of puppets would likely tip them off. Besides, Master Tigress still hasn't received the Water yet, and the panda hasn't quite reached the valley either. Oh, and Masters Crane, Viper, Monkey, and Mantis have found those three bodies you left in the alley at this exact moment." Shi Renzu snarled at the mention of their names, the memory of him falling of into the ravine fresh on his mind. "So long story short, yours is a face they would recognize."

Sârmă nodded. "Very well. I suppose that those two will inevitably join my kingdom anyway. I hope it's not too long; I can't use their puppets until they're good and dead."

"It won't be long." The Master whispered. "Of that, I promise you." He turned to Tabula Rasa. "And yes, you may bring Mèng with you. The two of you, with your... _unique..._ abilities, will ensure that nothing goes wrong. Even if they do, we're fighting warriors of honour. They wouldn't dare hurt women and children, hmmm?"

Sârmă sighed longingly. "How I love to slaughter children. The faces they make when they die are so different than their adult counterparts. And their screams! The most beautiful of melodies, they reverberate through your skull long after their puppets are built. I do hope Master Po and Tigress make such a wondrous impression on me. It takes so much effort to get true warriors to scream, but it's so much more worth it in the end."

"Preach to the choir, Sârmă." Dubaku said. "When will we be permitted to use our true power against our adversaries, Master? I am eager to see the fear in their eyes when they discover everything they have ever known is a lie."

The Master stood. "I give you the same answer I gave the Puppet Master. Soon. Soon, when the clouds turn red and blood rains from the sky, we will be there, feasting on the bodies of the damned. No more shall this playground mortals call earth herald us as shadows, but as _gods_ of death. We. Are. Eternal. When my urn is in my clutches, this world will be no more. Everything will be silent, blessed darkness, just as it was meant to be.

"Yes... when the time has come, we will burn down this world and dance in the ashes."


	11. The Witch Doctor

_They called him the Demon of the Plains. A living embodiment of all the evil in Ghana._

 _The superstitious believed that he was a dark spirit, come to reap the souls of the living in an eternal, bloody harvest. Few who saw the yellowed bone of his spear lived to tell the tale, thus earning him this fearsome nickname. Over the course of ten years, he had blazed a trail of carnage and blood all throughout Africa, and happily so. Some even went so far as to say that he was the third sibling of Mawu-Lisa, cast down from the heavens due to his tyranny, and enacts his revenge by slaughtering any living creature that crossed his path. But any who knew Dubaku personally would know that this was all a lie. He was just as mortal as the next man, woman, or child that he slaughtered and added to his list of test subjects._

 _He had been born on a Wednesday, and henceforth had been named Kwaku. He had changed it to Dubaku after his exile from the Ewe, a name he felt was much more fitting for himself. He had been a huntsman before he received his true calling as a priest, his speed and agility known throughout the Ewe as legendary. He had never met his father before, and his mother had died when he was only ten years old, killed by some obscure disease that had ravaged his people's village at the time. The emptiness he felt on that day had never left him._

 _Now, as he sat in the darkness of his hideout, he contemplated. His ceremonial mask, a relic he had taken from a butchered Dogon priest, lay at his side. Dubaku found that the demonic, intimidating visage was more his true face than the expressive mask he wore when it was off. It spoke to him of the darkness within his inner soul, of the torment he had had to endure at the hands of his own people. A darkness that only_ she _could lift. The only woman he had ever loved. The first person he had ever killed._

 _Her name was Yayra. She was a leopard like him, but melanistic, her fur blacker than the night, her eyes greener than the most verdant of jungles. She and Dubaku had known each other since childhood and were the best of friends. The others of their tribe said that no two souls were more meant for each other. She was the youngest to have become a Vodun high priestess, at sixteen years of age. Yayra had learned the secrets of the religion faster than any who had come before, and when Dubaku had a vision during one hunt, she had been allowed to teach him the ways of the Vodun. Two years under her tutelage was all it took for him to become a priest himself. In that time period, their love for each other grew until they were inseparable._

 _When Dubaku had sent a pot of palm wine to Yayra's father, a tradition among the Ewe to signify his intention of marrying her, he had readily agreed. His tribe said it was a true blessing for two priests to be married, surely a favourable omen for their future together. They hoped that their union would bring an age of peace and prosperity to their people. It did, for a time. Dubaku could still remember watching the sun rise over the plains with her, the long nights of passion and lust. He would have rather died with her by his side than live an eternity without her._

 _When her parents had been killed by a group of nomadic assassins, he had been there for her. When he had tracked the killers down, her kiss had given him more strength and courage than the blessings she bestowed upon him. Dubaku, when gazing down the lifeless corpses of the murderers, had a revelation. Life was far too short. You are born, live for a short time, then go to meet your ancestors at the end of your days. What a pointless existence. On that day, he vowed to find the key to immortality so that he and Yayra could truly live without ever having to die._

 _Thus, Dubaku began his research. He studied the rocks first, always there, eroding and changing, but never dying. He had believed that the secret to living forever lay within the most primordial chaos of nature. What a fool he'd been. Years he'd wasted on this theory, trying to stop his and Yayra's death from ever happening. Immortality lay not within the rocks, the wind, the sky. The only way to prevent death was to know it like it was a part of you._

 _Then his research took a darker turn._

 _Dubaku realized that the true key to immortality lay not in nature, but in the dead. At night, when Yayra was sleeping, he would go to the burial ground and exhume corpses, often having sex with the bodies that were in good condition, whether they were male or female. He stored them in his hideout, a cave he had expertly concealed in the desert until he needed them. It was grim work; a very rare occurrence it was that a corpse would last over a week, due to his savage experiments. It was a necessary desecration. Necessary for both him and his wife, and for all of his tribe._

 _The idea for this part of his research came from a traveller who had once passed through his village on a long journey. He claimed to be from Mount Lalish, one of the Yezidi people. He said that he possessed ancient knowledge of a race that had vanished from this world countless of thousands of years ago. He told Dubaku how to create statues of clay or stone and animate them to be used as servants. The leopard had tried the same thing with corpses. It worked, but they were mindless slaves, an unfitting method to gain immortality for he and Yayra._

 _Soon, his tribemates began to notice the disturbed graves, and were sickened at such a vile crime. They began to post guards around the burial sites he frequented. This made it quite difficult for him to dig the bodies out of their graves, and he began to have to travel farther away from his home every night to steal corpses from other tribe's burial grounds. Yayra often asked him why he was gone when she woke up, and why he came back after the morning. He had never given a reasonable answer._

 _Still, to this day, he wished he had. Dubaku, in the shadows of his hideout, raised her skull and stared into the hollow sockets where her eyes had been. In his mind, he could still picture those beautiful green eyes, brimming with love for him, staring into his own. Cradling her skull in his arms, he sang to her a song of loss and regret. Many nights as a child his own mother would sing the same song to him beneath the starry sky._

 _They had discovered him. Shortly after his tribemates had posted guards around the burial ground, one of them had seen him dragging a corpse back to his hideout. The young huntsman had ran and announced Dubaku's crimes to the rest of the Ewe. They had been horrified, naturally, but none more so than Yayra. She confronted him about his dark research, which he was happy to explain to her. She had been grief-stricken that_ she _had been the reason he had done what he did. She begged him to stop this madness, but he didn't. He couldn't, not when he was so close. So he crucified her._

" _Shhhh... Don't worry, I would never hurt you." Dubaku had whispered, gently stroking her cheek with one paw while he hammered the nail with the other._

" _You should have listened to me!" He'd said, his voice hoarse with rage and anguish, prowling back and forth in front of her. Even nailed to a cross, bleeding to death, she still pleaded with him to stop. She could never have understood in this life what she meant to him. How could she? The bond they had forged was eternal, and would last even after they had passed into the void. Why didn't she understand? Did her mortal shell seek to torment him for his loyalty, his undying affection? The dead still whispered in his ears, the darkness becoming darker, his insanity growing stronger. He had cut off her head to spare her any more suffering, and then sealed her soul within the skull._

 _When the Ewe discovered what Dubaku had done to their High Priestess and his own wife, they were outraged. The chief, that damned, bumbling elephant, sent many hunters after him when he fled the village. People he'd once called brother, sister, mother, father. None ever returned. A Vodun fetish was a statue or a mummified body part that was to be used in rituals, and that was how they all ended up. Tools for his rituals. When the attacks didn't stop, he decided that he had reached the point of no return. He returned to the Ewe village and slaughtered everyone he found, and finished with the chief. He ripped out the elephants spine and kept it, a single shoulder blade still attached to the bloody bone._

 _For a long time after that, Dubaku despaired. He cast his spear into the ocean and cursed the name of Mawu. His own goddess, who he had pledged his undying loyalty to when he became a priest of the Vodun, had betrayed him. She took the only woman he had ever loved away from him, and laughed at his misery, his suffering. He wandered the plains of Africa for years, killing anyone and keeping their bodies for research and reanimation. When he found the Dogon tribe and butchered the priest from whom he had taken the mask he now wore, it all became clear._

 _He finally understood what Mawu had in store for him._

 _She hadn't taken Yayra to torment him, but to_ motivate _him. Even the goddess herself supported his goal of gaining immortality. He changed his name to what he is referred to now, and set out on a quest that he still hadn't completed. To find the love of his life a body, identical to her former one, and let her soul take over it so she could live again. He renounced all desire of personal gain, and devoted himself, body and soul, to his new life's task. He crafted a new spear from the spine and shoulder he had taken from his former chieftain, and treated it with a special agent so that it wouldn't be flexible, more like the spear it was meant to be._

 _And now, his dreams were haunted. They were filled with worms, writhing, hungry worms that whispered in his ear. Even when he was awake, they were always there. They promised him a new body for Yayra, one that would be even more beautiful than her last one, and many other things besides that. Her skull never left his rucksack that he always wore, and he took it out often to speak with her. He didn't know if it was truly her voice he heard, or the voice of his own insanity, but it comforted him to know that she was still there, and still nurtured her love for him._

 _So Dubaku followed the worm's eldritch call, going on a long journey, not knowing where he was going or what they wanted from him, guided only by the thought of her touch again. The worms knew him intimately; they knew what he felt for her. She was his everything, his life, the purpose for his existence. Even if he had to burn down a thousand villages and kill millions of innocents, he would find a way to bring her back- so that they could truly be together forever._

 _Dubaku raised the skull to his face and kissed it, dreaming of the lips that were soon to be given flesh again._


	12. Herald of Darkness

"Seriously... why couldn't they.. just... have put me in a cellar... close by... instead of dragging me up a... mountain..."

The sun was rising ever higher on a scenic tapestry of red and orange, the harbinger of the impending morning. The brilliant hues of the sky were already starting to fade. In perhaps another half hour, there wouldn't even be the faintest spectre of their existence, just a lost, golden memory until its visage was revealed again the next morning. Po, who had made a slight miscalculation in the distance between the magical well and the Valley of Peace, was trudging tiredly back home, dragging his feet on the ground. He was close, so close, to the familiarity and hospitality of the village. Never before would a homecoming be so sweet.

He had been walking for at least an hour; Po had watched the sky go from steely gray to the vivid colours it was now, and soon would come the perpetual blue that the sky was forever painted. Walking for an hour wouldn't have been such a taxing job in itself if you didn't add in ditches, ravines, thick undergrowth, rocks, the memories of recently being crucified by a group of madmen out to kill everything, and keeping the precious cargo he carried in his pocket safe.

For the hundredth time in the past five minutes, Po reached into his pocket and touched the yellowed bone of the vial, feeling the gelid chill of the Water through its grim container. He wondered who the bone had belonged to before, and how much longer they would have lived if it hadn't been ripped out of them. Taking the vial out of his pocket and looking at it again, he decided that it probably wouldn't matter now. The bone was old; whoever it belonged to had been dead for so long their names were likely not even recorded in history. He felt a pang of grief at the thought that this person's existence was completely forgotten by all.

Po had taken the vial from that small room that he had been tortured in and filled it with the Water, for Tigress. He had treated the carved bone with as much care as if he had put a scorpion in his pocket, constantly checking it every few steps to make sure it didn't fall out. This stuff could heal even the most lethal of wounds, so it should be able to heal hers. The Master said that the tiger had been taken before his minions could get to her, but he didn't say who had taken her. He didn't know if she would even have been still alive after losing so much blood, but he quickly silenced such treacherous dwellings. She was alive, and would be healthy again after he gave her the Water.

"Finally!" Po gasped, propping himself against the first building he came across in an attempt to catch his breath. "I made it! Man, I'm hungry." His gasping breaths seemed to echo through the streets, which he couldn't help but notice were unusually empty, even for this early. "Uh... I guess it's everyone's day off, then?" He began to walk down the street, glancing around cautiously to scan for any sign of life.

The feel in the town was different, foreign. Surely there would be some people awake at this time? He didn't even see the telltale glimmer of a candle flame in any of the windows he passed. The Valley seemed to be in a state of overwhelming desolation, like the shadowed ghost of a once great empire. Everything looked the same as it had the day before, but it still sent chills up his spine. It also sent up a few more chills when he heard the unmistakable, high-pitched sound of a jinghu playing somewhere close by, and the sounds of singing could be heard.

"Oookay." Po said to himself. "That's not creepy when the village is mysteriously deserted." Even so, he was curious as to why someone would be playing music when no one was around to hear it. He listened for a moment, before deciding that it was coming from the left of him. It turned out to be the right choice, because after about ten paces the jinghu became louder and the lyrics of the song legible. The singer had a harsh, raspy voice, like that of an old man.

" _Hearken, friends, and watch the crows fly!_

 _Fear their omens as they dance through the sky_

 _The knell will ring loud, and the mortals shall pray_

 _That the time of their suffering will not last but a day_

 _When your name is written, in the book of the dead_

 _You will hear their screams resonate through your head!"_

Po turned a corner to see an old goose sitting on a dilapidated crate, his bow moving slowly along the jinghu. His feathers were gray with age, and his beak looked like cracked orange stone, but there was a strange, mad wisdom in his eyes. He didn't notice the giant panda standing there next to him, too engrossed with his acherontic song.

" _Watch the sky turn red and the worms start to feast_

 _As you follow the Master into the belly of the beast."_

Po gasped aloud at the mention of the Master, and the old goose smiled, the skin around his beak wrinkling. "Greetings, Po. Have you come to listen to the herald's song?"

"How do you know about the worms, the Master?" Po asked him, although he was somewhat afraid to know the answer. "... And my name."

"Worms are decomposers, an essential part of life" The goose said, still playing the instrument. "And everyone has a master, Dragon Warrior, even you. I simply sing a tale of woe and tragedy. What do you claim I know of?"

"Oh..." Po suddenly realized that blurting that information out was stupid at best. Trying to change the subject, he looked around the street. "Do you know why it's so empty this morning?"

"They feel it, the people, and try to hide. They know that a shadow blots out the sun and will cover this world in its tenebrific entirety. You feel it too, else you wouldn't have sought me out."

"Well, actually it was more so your music that made me seek you out." Po said, sitting down next to him. The old goose stopped playing his jinghu and looked at the panda. "So... what about this shadow thing you were talking about?" Po asked him.

"It is just the beginning. The darkness that this Valley will face in the next few days will be the ultimate fate of the world as a whole. Surely you have felt its power, heard its cacophonous screams, saw the shadows grow deeper and darker when the sun still shines in the sky. Your inner peace has given you a spiritual attunement to this doomed universe, so you should have noticed the signs."

"I've definitely noticed something," Po said, rubbing the palms of his hands where the nails had been driven through. "Wait, how do you know about my inner peace?"

"If only you had picked up on it sooner, then perhaps you may have stood a chance against the tides of war." The goose continued, ignoring the question. "Those villages were just the beginning of this madness. They will be here soon, the madmen will. Sniffing out blood like sharks, drawn to death like a moth to a flame. I herald their arrival, I warn you of the cataclysm that is soon to take place, but there is nothing that can be done to stop death. They bring calamity, they bring pain. They bring with them the screams of those destined to die, and the anguished weeping of the widows. Their calls shall mark the end of this fragile earth."

"So you _do_ know something about the Master."

"What I know... can be of no use to you now. If only Master Oogway had simply told the plain truth to you, to Shifu, to the Valley. Everything would have turned out so much differently if you had been prepared. But his riddles were the death of him, and will be the death of you as well." The old goose placed his musical instrument on the ground and stood. "This town stands on the edge of the abyss, only a gentle push from plummeting into the void. If you had any sense, you would get out of this country while the getting's good."

Po felt a chill run through him that wasn't caused by the temperature. The bird's words rang with the conviction of a prophecy. He swallowed, then spoke. "I don't know exactly how powerful whatever it is that's coming for us, but there is no way I'll run from these loonies. I'm the Dragon Warrior; I swore to protect these people. I'm not gonna give up on my word."

The old man was walking away down the street before Po had even finished. "You have taken a fool's oath, panda. So be it. I must depart from this town. You will not see me again, Po."

"Okay. Goodbye then." Po said, waving cheerfully to the goose's back. "Wait, what's your name?" he called, but if the goose heard him, he gave not the slightest indication. The giant panda shrugged. "Well, that was weird."

"Po?" He nearly jumped out of his skin when the unexpected voice came from behind him. He looked over his shoulder. It was Crane, staring at him from beneath the brim of his hat. "Oh, hey Crane." Po said casually. "You got back early."

"You could say the matter solved itself. Po, where were you last night?" His voice had an underlaying tone of... grief? His beak trembled slightly. "Do you know what happened to Tigress?"

"Oh, yeah, she got hurt pretty bad by the Puppet Master. Do you know how she's doing now?" Po asked. "I really need to see her."

Crane closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "Po... she's dying."

Despite the fact that Po already assumed this, and despite the healing Water in his pocket, this news hit him like a blow from a hammer. With nails. _The water healed me, and Sârmă, and probably Dubaku as well. It'll work on her._ He shook his head. "No, she isn't."

The avian looked taken aback by his denial. "She had a vital artery severed when she received her wound. Min said she shouldn't have even survived till dawn. "

"Yeah, but Min doesn't have what I do." Po said, taking out the vial from his pocket and showing it to Crane. "There's something in this vial that's so awesome it's gonna turn your brain into shit. Trust me, Craniac, she won't die. You said she was at Min's shop, right? Let's go, no time to lose!" He took off, not quite running, down the street towards the healer's place before the avian could ask what was in the vial.

"What is he going to do now?" Crane wondered aloud. With a heavy heart, he spread his wings and took off the ground, staying slightly above the rooftops. He felt no need to go any higher than this, since he was going to be landing soon anyway.

It only took a few minutes to reach Min's shop. The building, though nothing truly impressive, was a bit more expensive than most of the other shops, a testament to Min's skill in the healing and alchemical arts. Po kicked the door open with a loud "Hi-ya!" and jumped into the room. There was a pig sitting on one of the rickety wooden chairs in a corner, his arm in a splint. He looked shocked at the panda's abrasive entry. "Hey buddy," Po said cheerfully. "You know where Min is?"

"Upstairs." Was all the pig said, and Po was already halfway up the stairs before the word had left his mouth. He found himself in a short hallway, with two doors on either side, and one at the end of the corridor. The rooms to his right and left were for patients with more serious ailments, while the single door at the far end was where Min slept. Crane caught up with him at the top of the steps. "How can you be so cheerful at a time like this?" the avian hissed in Po's ear, making him smile.

"Because," Po said "I have found the key to..." He paused for a second, as though awaiting something. He sighed in disappointment. "No drumroll, then. Eternal life!" The look his friend gave him suggested that calling him crazy would be an understatement. "Seriously, I'm not kidding. Really!" He added when Crane kept walking down the hall. "Just tell me which room she's in."

"Tigress is in here," he said quietly over his shoulder, before opening the closest door to Min's room on the left wall. Po hurriedly followed him and ducked through the threshold, since the doorway too low for him to walk upright through. Without a head injury, anyway.

Po first saw Tigress, laying on a cot with a blanket pulled up to her neck. Her eyes were closed, and it didn't look like she was moving. He was terrified that he had tarried too long, that she had died before he could administer the Water, but then he saw the faint rise and fall of her chest. Though the room was only lit by a candle on a small beside table, he could make out the round ears and small stature of Master Shifu sitting on a chair, his gaze on his daughter. There was a heavy, somber feel in the air. Min was at the back of the room where a larger table was set up, mashing a poultice with a mortar and pestle.

"Alright guys, step aside." Po said loudly, making Min and Shifu, who were previously unaware of his presence, jump and turn their attention to him. "The Dragon Warrior is here to save the day!"

"Sure, don't knock. Just barge in and start yelling" Min drawled, not even looking up . "It's not like someone's dying in here."

"You are one hundred percent right." Po responded confidently. "No one is dying in this room today." He walked on over to the cot and knelt down beside it, next to Shifu. He pressed the back of his hand to Tigress's forehead. She was cool and clammy to the touch, and her breathing was slight and rapid. She needed the water immediately.

"What happened last night, Po?" Shifu asked. There was no anger in his voice; he just sounded tired and forlorn.

"Man, we'd be here all day if I told you now. I'm gonna just use my magical powers to heal Tigress, then I'll tell you. Hey, she might even wake up in time to hear what happened to me."

"This is hardly the time for your games, panda." Po's upbeat response may have stirred some anger in his mentor, if Shifu's sudden change of tone was any indication.

"This is no game, Master Shifu." He said. "This is the coolest thing in the history of ever. Watch."

Po gently lowered the blanket to get a good look at Tigress's wound. Min had wrapped pretty much her entire upper chest in linen, which, unfortunately, made it impossible to see the wound. It did spare him a great deal of awkwardness, though, as he didn't think she'd be wearing her vest under the bandages. He slowly began to unravel on of the bandages around her left shoulder, where the wound was received.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Min was beside Po faster than he'd ever seen anyone move. He grabbed the panda's hand and pulled it back, showing an incredible amount of strength for his size. He applied pressure to Po's wrist, making sharp jolts of pain shoot up the panda's arm.

"No, I need to see the wound!" Po protested, trying to get his hand out of the sable's grip. He was damn strong for a healer. "Trust me on this, I can save her."

"Nothing can save her now!" Even so, Min leaned to the side and met Shifu's eyes. The red panda nodded, so slightly it was almost imperceptible, and said. "It's the only chance she has, unlikely as it is."

Without saying anything else, the sable picked up a small scalpel off the table where he had been grinding the poultice, and carefully cut the bandages that covered her wound. Po sucked in a breath through his teeth. It was bad- no, that was an understatement- it was lethal. The wound had to be an inch and a half across, and still slowly oozed blood despite the bandages. It was too big to even stitch up. "Alright, are you guys ready for this?"

Silence answered him.

"Here goes!" Po exclaimed, his voice growing gradually louder as he pulled out the bone vial from his pocket. "ALLA-" He popped the cork off and poured half of the contents of the bottle onto the wound. "-KAZAM!"

Min, Shifu and Crane gasped as the occult magic of the Water took effect. Her wound began closing around the edges, like an iris, and the blood flow quickly stopped. Po sat back with a smile on his face, not surprised anymore about the power of the Water. Then, suddenly getting another good idea, he poured more of the elixir onto her fingers and toes, wondering if the Water would heal her claws. Now it was his turn to be surprised. Tigress's claws simply... grew back, in a process that looked similar to pouring black oil into an invisible, claw-shaped container. Within seconds they were all whole

"Holy fuck on a hot day..." Min whispered, putting his paws over his eyes for a second and then uncovering them, as though he expected the wound to have reappeared. "Those mushrooms should have worn off hours ago. I can't work like this."

"It's not a hallucination, man." Po said, holding up the now empty vial of the Water. "It's called 'Awesomeness'." He turned to Shifu, who was staring at him, awestruck. Not once had Po seen that expression on his face. "Where did you get that?" He asked.

"Storytime!" Po then relayed the details of the night to his mentor, beginning with him getting the flyer for the puppet show, and ending with the crucifixion and the discovery of the well. Shifu remained silent throughout the whole story, a troubled look in his eyes which became grim when he mentioned the Master. Then Po recalled something important, and his hand shot up to his mouth. "Oh no!" He said "We left the bodies in the alley! We thought that... aw, man! We should have taken care of them before we went out puppet-hunting"

"We found the dead before you returned." Shifu said. "Viper, Monkey and Mantis are out informing their families of the tragedy, and the bodies are being taken to the undertaker by the Palace Servants."

Po was glad that they had taken care of them before anyone saw them. Last night, him and Tigress had had to question the Puppet Master before he hauled ass out of town. They now knew it was unnecessary, since Sârmă was clearly not going anywhere for a while. His dark obsession with him and Tigress prevented that from happening. At the time, though, they assumed that Sârmă was a wandering psychopath, travelling from town to town and killing people at random.

"This Master of theirs..." Shifu began, a deeply troubled look in his eyes. "You met him. Did he give you his name?"

"I asked Dubaku, but he just started talking in crazynese, which I'm not too fluent in" Po shrugged. "I guess this Master guy is going for that mysterious vibe. I did, on the other hand, find out the names of another two of his henchmen- Tabula Rasa and Mèng. I have absolutely no idea what they look like. I know that Tabula Rasa is a woman, though, and I think Mèng is a kid. The Master did refer to him as 'that child'"

Shifu said nothing, but stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Should I have left the room before you told that story?" Min asked from beside them. He had gone back to grinding up his poultice. Po had completely forgotten he was still with them. The sable was observing the area were the wound had been before, frowning curiously. The fur hadn't grown back, suggesting that the Water couldn't heal lost hair. "This potion of yours..." Min began.

"Water." Po corrected.

"Hmm. It's not water. Not in the truest sense of word, anyway. I can sense... great power, ancient power, coming from it. I have never felt anything like it before, but I know without a doubt that it is dangerous. I must ask something of you, Dragon Warrior."

"Helping people is my job and hobby, man."

"Get me another vial of this water," Min waved the vial under his face; somehow he had taken it right out of Po's hand without him noticing. "And you must never, ever use it again. Until I can be sure it's safe."

"What?" Po shouted. "This is a miracle potion! Everyone should have some of it. There's a whole well of it in the mountains."

"No powerful medicine is without side effects, Po." Min retorted. "This one is clearly magic-based, and whatever else it might cause could be absolutely catastrophic to you, and your friend here. That's the problem with magical potions; too damned unpredictable. I must study it, and anyone who has been healed with it, before it can truly be called a 'miracle potion'"

Po hadn't thought of that. Suddenly he felt like he had made a terrible mistake, but then he remembered that Tigress would surely die without it. Still, the Water coursing through his veins felt like a cold, alien poison. He shuddered and turned away. "I really didn't need to hear that, after I used a ton of it on Tigress."

"Yes, you did," said Min, pulling up the blanket to cover Tigress again. "You don't want to be giving something like this to everyone with a papercut just because it can apparently heal anything. You may have condemned Tigress, and yourself, to a fate worse than death." When Po gasped, Min quickly caught himself. "Although that is unlikely. Like I said, it's just a game of chance. But the risk is too high to wantonly throw this Water around. At least until I can truly know what it does."

"I haven't felt anything," Po said, feeling dizzy all of a sudden from his newfound uncertainty.

"The side effects could be slow-acting ones."

"You're not helping."

Before either of them could say anything, the door opened again. It was the rest of the Furious Five; Monkey, Mantis and Viper. "Master Shifu, we've taken care of-" Viper began, but then her eyes widened when she saw the panda sitting there. "Po? You're alright! Where were you last night?"

"It's not just me that's alright." Po said, gesturing towards the supine Tigress. "She is, too."

"Seemingly." Min interjected. "Have you forgotten what I told you ten seconds ago?"

"Okay, she's not dying anymore. She should wake up soon, I think. I don't know. And I was having a heart-to-heart with the Master of all Freaky People last night."

"The Master of..." Viper shook her head, turning her attention to the more . "How is it possible for Tigress to be alright? Didn't she have a vital artery above her heart severed?"

Shifu nodded. "The panda seems to have acquired magical Water that can heal any wound. Min was just explaining how dangerous magic can be."

Mantis hopped onto the bed and slightly lowered the covers to see that the wound was, in fact, gone. "Whoa." Was all he said. The expression on his face was one of both relief and utter amazement.

"Yes, whoa." Min said. "Now, if I may ask you politely, get the fuck off the bed."

"Man, how is that even possible?" Monkey asked. "She was bathing in her own blood when we found her. Seriously, Po, how did you pull this off? This is unbelievable!"

Po shrugged. "Y'know. Magic. Water. The two make a great pair. There's a well of it in the mountains."

"You've got to take us there sometime soon." Viper said "We could save so many lives with this Water."

Min sighed, rubbing the bridge of his snout. "Once again, I feel like I'm talking to myself. This Water- to put it in the simplest of terms- has ancient, dark power emanating from it. Side effects aside, do you know what kind of conflict this could bring to China? It would bring all sorts of warlords, bandits, and madmen here, vying for a chance of immortality. These lunatics who have it now should be proof enough of how dangerous it is. They must know the side effects, and how to counter them."

"How do you know if there even are side effects to it?" Viper asked.

"I..." Min suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "It isn't something you should know. Po, just be aware of what I told you. I will explain it to Tigress when she wakes up. If you feel any form of sickness, aches, death, come to me. It could be a side effect. Now," the sable said his tone becoming lighter, "the sound of your stomach growling is beginning to make my mushroom-addled mind think there is a dragon in the room, and that is not a good thing. Besides, I think your father may need assistance at the noodle shop."

Po couldn't help that. He hadn't eaten since yesterday, an hour or two before he and Tigress went to the puppet show. "You seriously were patching Tigress up when you were on drugs?" Was what he said instead.

"Mmmmmmm," Min replied, which could have meant anything. "Alright," Po said, getting up from his chair and walking to the door. "I'll go, then. Will you please send someone as soon as she wakes up?"

"Of course, Po." Min said. "The rest of you must leave as well. I have some... things to ponder over. Like I said to Po, I will send someone for you when she wakes up. And she _will_ wake up, I assure you."

The rest of the Five hesitated, before they bowed and left. "Po," Shifu said before the panda had left the room. He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Thank you. For saving Tigress. You as well, Min. She would have surely died without your assistance."

"No need to thank me," Po said.

"You're not going to thank me when you see the bill," Min laughed. "...just kidding. Always an honour to help a fellow Kung Fu Master."

"Whoa, whoa, did I just hear you right?" Po said. "You're a Kung Fu Master?"

"I was." the sable responded. "I trained under Oogway himself, alongside Shifu. Although, many people trained under Oogway, so it's no huge deal. I just decided I would rather heal than harm, so I gave up my title. Now, if you two will finally leave me to my thoughts..."

"Of course, Master Min." Po said, doing the traditional Kung Fu bow, before walking out the door. A second later, his head came back around the frame. "You're awesome. Just thought you should know." Then he was gone. Shifu slowly rose to his feet, his eyes still fixed on his daughter who had been brought back from the brink of death by a most unlikely savior. "Min."

"Yes?"

"Did you really mean everything you told the panda, about the Water?"

"No." Min admitted. "I didn't want to scare him. It is a lot worse than what I said. I just hope that its power doesn't make this all end in tragedy."

Shifu sighed. "As do I. I know that you cannot make any conclusions yet as to what it might do, but please update me whenever you make a discovery. Farewell for now, Min."

And then the aged sable was alone with the sleeping tiger. Her breathing had gotten significantly deeper and less laboured the second the panda had given her the Water, but he wasn't going to be fooled. He wasn't just a healer. Not even a Kung Fu master. He was an alchemist and a warlock, and when you used magic enough, you could smell the evil on certain potions, like a gigantic shit stain that spread its reek to everything it came in contact with.

Min had lied when he told them the mushrooms should have worn off a while ago. He had taken them only a half hour before Crane had suddenly arrived with the mortally wounded Tigress. He was beginning to reach the climax of the trip now, and it looked to him like the walls were breathing, pulsating. Whenever he moved, everything left a ghost trail behind it. The evil power of the Water was beginning to affect his psychoactive dream for the worse.

Min had taken the hallucinogens in an attempt to induce visions, a method that shamans sometimes used to commune with the spirits. Then, of course, Crane had showed up. His first thought upon seeing them had been "Oh fuck," but fortunately the fly agaric hadn't kicked in yet. It was incredibly hard to patch up a wound when snakes, pigs, dragons, and other weird creatures he'd never seen before kept crawling out of it. He sat down heavily and began writing notes down in relation to the Water the panda had used to heal Tigress with.

"She should be dormant. But shes awake, alive." Min said out loud, as though the unconscious form on the bed could hear him. "I am sorry, Tigress, Po... I should have felt her presence in this land decades ago. Whatever fate befalls you, it is my fault. All my fault..."

Min was truly terrified. Terrified for Tigress and for Po. The Water seemed to be a miracle potion outwardly, but in reality it was a poison. He could smell the stench of evil upon it, and that was something he was more than familiar with. But that wasn't what terrified him, no. It was the uniqueness of the evil that shook him to his very core.

The Water had the essence of the ancient demoness, Lamashtu, swimming within it. How a Mesopotamian figure of evil had wound up in China, he was unsure, but he had to get answers on the matter immediately. He knew a couple of people who might have those answers, but he had parted with one of them on not-so-good terms. He needed to speak to both of them regardless. Well, after his patient was awake and functioning. And after the door stopped threatening to kill him. Yes, once those factors had been erased, then it would be time for enlightenment.


	13. The Black Tarot

The tiny bones clattered across the cobblestone streets, overlaying each other to make a myriad of unusual patterns. Each tiny white piece had a unique symbol carved on it, most in Cuneiform, but some with Egyptian hieroglyphs. A pair of red eyes, belonging to the person who had cast them, narrowed thoughtfully. This was the third time in the past minute she had tried osteomancy to predict what would happen in the next hour, but the results were inconclusive. The bones suggested that this could go any way, and she wasn't pleased with that. Tabula Rasa hated going into enemy territory blind.

Behind her, the young child Mèng stood still, never saying a word as always. How could he, after all? He had taken his hood off, but he folded his ears down over his eyes until they crossed over his mouth. At first glance, it would seem as though the child was so shy that he didn't want people to see his face, and that was intended. People were like to raise eyebrows if they saw what he really was.

Tabula Rasa let a long breath and gathered up the bones in one hand. She cast them again, but the result was the same. "Damn this panda," she said out loud. "How is his fate hidden from me?" The silent child behind her said nothing. It would be fruitless to try and cast the bones again, so she gathered them up and placed them in a pouch she kept on a string around her neck. She'd killed enough time trying this, and the Master's patience would be wearing thin as to why she hadn't even made contact with him yet.

Tabula Rasa had hoped to find a tidbit of Chinese magic in this Valley to expand her occult knowledge, but all she'd seen so far were hedge-witches and con artists. It was a true disgrace to the esoteric art. The most powerful mage she'd encountered in this country was Dubaku, although he was so obsessed with trying to bring his wife back from the dead that it clouded his judgement. He also refused to show her his secrets, claiming it was against his religion to reveal its hidden magic to one who hadn't had the calling.

 _What a damn fool,_ she thought, then realized she was allowing her mind to wander. The panda. She only needed to taste one drop of his blood and he would be dancing on her strings. Even though she was an adept fighter, the Dragon Warrior had a great reputation to uphold, and she didn't want to find out how much of that was truth. Mèng could easily get her out of danger if she went in over her head, but then she would be punished by the Master for failing again. The fact that she couldn't see his fate made him a very dangerous foe.

Tabula Rasa rose to her feet smoothly, sighing deeply. "Whatever. I suppose it just makes things more interesting. Come along, dear." She said to Mèng, walking down the street. Some people were beginning to emerge from their homes. _This late in the day, and people are just waking up?_ Tabula Rasa sniffed disdainfully. _Bunch of lazy asses. But then again, they rely on the Furious Five to protect them, like fearful sheep. Afraid of the shepherd, afraid of the sheepdog, and most of all..._ a grin split Tabula Rasa's face. _Afraid of the wolf. And here I am._

 _..._

The noodle shop was a lot more busy than Po had thought it would given the emptiness of the streets. People were starting to come out of their homes, but it was still noticeably vacant. Only two tables were filled, but they were already eating. "Hey, dad!" Po called to Mr. Ping, who was standing behind the counter, chopping up vegetables with a cleaver. He looked up and waved with the gleaming steel blade.

"Po! How was the puppet show last night? I heard it was quite a spectacle."

"Uh, yeah. I guess that's one way of putting it." Po said uncomfortably, not wanting to discuss what happened afterwards his his father. "Need any help?"

"No, not yet. It's unusually dead today. Maybe everyone drank too much at the puppet show last night and are sleeping it off."

Po winced. Why did he have to mention it again? "I didn't see any alcohol there. Look, dad, we might have to evacuate the Valley soon."

The cleaver slammed into the cutting board, and Mr. Ping looked up. "What do you mean, evacuate? I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary around here. Not since last night, anyway."

Po had hoped to avoid having to tell him this, but he also didn't want to leave his dad unaware of how bad things were going to get. "The Puppet Master guy is a complete loony. He captured me last night, but I escaped, and he almost killed Tigress. She would have been dead by now if I hadn't found some kind of magical Water that healed her. And it's not just him, either. There are more of them, and they are obsessed with this Valley for some reason. Something about an urn."

"You were captured? And Tigress was almost killed? How? Why?" Mr. Ping demanded.

"It's alright now," Po assured him. "But Master Shifu is probably going to give the order to evacuate the valley really soon. I'm betting when Tigress wakes up. I'm just saying you should get ready for that when it happens."

"And what about you? These people must be incredibly dangerous if one of them could best you and Tigress. You must come with us!"

Po shook his head. "Dad, I'm the Dragon Warrior. This is what I was chosen to do. Tigress and I underestimated the Puppet Master. That's why he beat us. Next time we meet, it's gonna go down very differently."

Mr. Ping was clearly still agitated, and Po couldn't blame him. He'd fought madmen before, but not like these people. In an attempt to change the subject, Mr. Ping asked Po if he were hungry.

"Oh, hell yeah." Po said. "Haven't eaten since Tigress and I came here yesterday before the puppet show."

"You must be starving, then! Come, sit down. I'll get you some noodles and dumplings right away."

"That's okay, I can get them myself."

"After what you've been through last night, you deserve this. Don't argue with me about it anymore, Po."

Po shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, alright. Thanks, dad. Oh, and some bean buns would be awesome too."

"Of course. I'll be back in a minute with your food, son."

"Okay. Thanks again, dad."

After Mr. Ping had gone back into the kitchen, Po went and sat down at one of the empty tables, feeling the bench creak dangerously as he settled his weight upon it. The low murmuring of the other customers as they conversed with each other at their own tables was comforting to his ears. It almost made him feel like nothing was amiss, as though everything were fine and normal. He wished some bandits would try starting something. Their silence was the most unnerving part in all this. These villains who they fought against presumably took them out too, as they had with those villages they massacred.

"You seem tense, Dragon Warrior. Tell me, has your fate been favourable today?"

The woman's voice had come from behind him. When Po turned to look, he saw a pallid figure wearing bright clothes sitting at a table which had been empty when he'd looked two seconds ago. The figure had their back turned to him, and he thought at first that he had imagined the voice. Then they turned their head to look over their shoulder, expecting an answer.

It was a she-wolf, slender and clearly albino. Her eyes were a striking red, and her fur was so white it almost hurt to look when the sun caught on it. Her smile showed a row of frighteningly sharp teeth. Po was instantly on edge; no matter how nice someone was, red eyes were never a good sign. She shifted slightly, and he saw another small form sitting across the table from her. A rabbit child, with his ears folded down over his face to form an X that hid his features. It looked quite ridiculous, but Po said nothing about it out loud. He was probably just shy. There was an array of cards thrown over the table, with all sorts of strange pictures on them.

"Where'd you come from?" Po asked, unsure as to why he felt so chilled by her presence. He tried to tell himself that having red eyes didn't make someone evil, but he felt pinned by her gaze, like a mouse in the claws of a cat.

"The doorway, of course. I came because I knew you would be here, Dragon Warrior." the wolf said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You are quite a legendary figure in your own right. I simply wanted to meet you."

"Well, that's not unusual." Po said with a shrug. "People come from all over China just to meet me. There was this one time-"

"I came to tell you your fate." she interrupted, holding up a few of the cards on the table in front of his face. Her smile was warm and friendly, and despite the scariness of her eyes, Po felt a little bit of his unease fade away. Maybe a good old fortune telling could take his mind off the dark shadow that was threatening to devour the Valley of Peace. He was a little curious as to why she wanted to tell him his fate, but he figured he would just go along with it. "These are tarot cards." She said to him. "How familiar are you with these?"

"Never heard of 'em."

"Wonderful!" She exclaimed happily. "Then you don't know what to expect. I'm glad. I love to explain how the tarot readings work."

"You mean you can read my fortune just by looking at cards? Awesome!"

"It is." she nodded. "You may call me... Tabby for now. This is my son, Tao. We have come a long way to speak with you."

"So, you came for more than just a reading. My name's Po. How did you know about me? I can tell you aren't from around here. I've never heard your accent before."

Another smile. "Indeed. I hail from Venice, in Italy. It is quite a distance away, yes. Are you ready to hear your fortune?"

"Lay it on me!" He said enthusiastically, slamming a fist on the table.

"Now, since this is your fist tarot reading, I will do the most basic card form. Come, sit across the table. Tao, you will be next to me." When the child moved and sat next to the wolf, Po took his seat where he'd previously been sitting. This bench was a little bit more sturdy than the last one, and it hardly creaked when he sat down. He felt a glimmer of accomplishment. _I'm losing weight! Nice. Or maybe it's because I was partially eaten this morning. Not so nice._

In a split second, Tabby gathered all of the cards with one movement of her hand. Po couldn't help but notice that she had manicured her claws to sharp, gleaming points. They looked more like a cat's claws than a canine's. After shuffling the tarot deck for a moment, she took three cards off the top and placed them side-by-side, face-down. "This card," Tabby said, touching the far left one, "is your past. The middle is your present. As you can probably guess, the third one is your future."

"Sweet."

"Now-" Tabby began, but then cut herself off when the sounds of webbed feet hitting stone came from behind her. It was Mr. Ping, skillfully carrying three bowls in his wings as he made his way to his adoptive son. "Hey, dad!" Po said. "Guess what? I just found a Soothsayer, and she's reading my fortune."

"I'm no Soothsayer, Dragon Warrior. No Soothsayer can do what I can."

"Oh, how interesting." Mr. Ping said as he set the bowls down on the table. "I haven't seen a fortune-teller in a long time. At least not a good one; most of them around here are con artists."

"Isn't that funny? I was just thinking the same thing. I can assure you that I am the real deal. Now, shall we begin?"

"Yeah! Dad, you've gotta sit down and watch. This is gonna be awesome."

"Did you come here to order some food?" Mr. Ping asked Tabby when he sat down next to the giant panda. "You know, I have a rule about people who sit in my noodle shop without buying anything."

"C'mon dad, give her a break." Po said. "She came all the way from Venice to meet me!"

"Venice?" Suddenly Mr. Ping's tone changed for the better. "All the way from Venice? Now _that_ is interesting."

"Yeah. One second, Tabby, I'm just going to eat really quick." Po told her, then buried his face into the bowl of dumplings, devouring most of them in the first few seconds. Then he remembered that manners would probably be in order here, since he was speaking with a lady. He looked up from the bowl, his cheeks stuffed close to overflowing with dumplings. "G'on." He said, then swallowed them whole. "Go on," he repeated unsure as to whether or not she could interpret his words the first time.

She smiled again, and despite his unease which he thought had gone away, he couldn't help but notice with more than a little discomfort how beautiful she was. "You should watch your diet." Tabby said. "Or else that handsome face of yours will soon look like a topography of the Himalayas. It would be a real shame for the ladies, wouldn't it?"

"Uh... can we start now?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck and feeling his cheeks burning under her mesmerizing red gaze. She was enjoying making him uncomfortable.

"Ah, yes. My apologies. Now." Tabby's hand hovered over the first card, Po's past. She flipped it over with one hand and raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. The card depicted a chariot manned by a lion, drawn by two horses, a black and white one. The word _Curruum_ was written in immaculate handwriting, written by hand in very fine ink.

"The Chariot." Tabby said. "A very favourable past. You chased your dream of becoming a Kung Fu master, of being friends with your idols, and in one glorious twist of fate, you achieved your dream and became Dragon Warrior. Impressive." She nodded approvingly. "You still look up to them, too, despite the fact that you are their equal now. Your friends, the Furious Five. This isn't part of the reading anymore; I am making an observation."

"Well, yeah." Po shrugged. "Between Shifu and them, they helped me become what I am today. They're always gonna be awesome, no matter what."

"I have heard many stories about them." Tabby's eyes became much more focused, affixed on him. "They sound like natural born warriors. Legends that will echo among the stars for all eternity long after the sands of time have consumed them."

"Hey, you'd be surprised. You know Crane? He used to be a janitor at the Lee Da academy until the star pupil there, Mei Ling, gave him the confidence to try it out. Now he's one of the greatest Kung Fu masters in China. And Viper was born without fangs- everyone thought that without venom, she would never be able to follow in her father's footste- er, you know what I mean. The snake equivalent of footsteps. Tracks, I guess? Then she kicked this guy's ass who just beat her dad- Great Master Viper. That was his name. That reminds me, I've gotta ask her to introduce me to him."

"She has certainly proven her skill a million times over." Tabby said, looking at him thoughtfully. "Shall we continue with the tarot reading?"

"Oh yeah!" Po said, grabbing a bean bun and popping the whole thing in his mouth. "Almost forgot about that."

Tabby flipped over the present card. This one showed a female snow leopard, nude, kneeling beside a river. She had a cup each each hand, and was pouring water from one into the river, and the other into the grass beside her. Above her was an eight-pointed star, and the bottom of the card said S _idus._

"The star." Tabby began.

"Why is she naked?" Po inquired before she went on, and beside him, Mr. Ping nodded, clearly curious as well.

The she-wolf shrugged. "Italy is a wonderful place. Anyway, this card symbolizes clarity of purpose and great potential. You know now that being Dragon Warrior is your destiny, your calling, and not only that, you are good at it. Your loneliness in the past is what gave you the wisdom to make your dream come true. As a figure of power and a beacon of light to the minds of the villagers, you flourish."

"Wow. You're good." Po was surprised at how accurate this was turning out to be with his own life. "And my future? That's the one I want to see the most."

Tabby smiled faintly, again, this time with a little bit less friendliness than she had shown before. A couple of ducks came in through the front door. Mr. Ping got up to greet them and take their orders. It was just him, Tabby, and Tao now. Po realized that the child hadn't said a single word yet. _Man, he takes shy to a whole new level._ He wanted to talk with the kid, but right now he had to let Tabby finish her reading. Her hand hovered over the last card, and then her smile turned into a grin, giving him another eyeful of her razor sharp teeth.

"Poor little panda, dancing on a rope." She chanted, her voice changing. It wasn't warm to the point of being borderline seductive anymore; now it was cold, wicked, almost singsong. Like an incantation spoken before a blood sacrifice. She flipped over the card, and Po's hands shot up to his mouth.

It showed a panda hanging upside-down from a tree, one leg bent at the knee, and his arms folded behind his back. It didn't just look like Po; it _was_ him. An expertly painted portrait of him. His own eyes stared back at him, and he had no doubt in his mind that this card was directly referring to him. His eyes were especially drawn to the words at the bottom of this card; _suspensus est homo._ For some reason, he knew what it said.

 _The hanged man._

Tabby stood up and gathered the cards. "You, panda, have a dark fate ahead of you, that is certain. If you want to know more, then we will need to speak about this in private. Come with me, I know a good place. No one will hear us there."

"What is this?" Po finally mustered up the nerve to speak

"Didn't I make it clear to you? It's a tarot card."

"No, I mean, what's this card in particular supposed to represent? You can't just leave me hanging like that!" Right after he said the words, he noticed the pun. He chuckled, then remembered how grim of a picture it was. He became serious again.

"Like I said, we're going to have to go someplace where no one can hear us, no matter what. Then I will tell you the rest." She was suddenly behind him, caressing his arm from his shoulder to his elbow. Her voice had become seductive now; she was clearly luring him. _Can it be?_ Po wondered. _Only one way to find out for sure._ Tao was gone. The bunny hadn't gotten up, hadn't moved in the slightest, he was just gone. _No doubt about it. I'll play along for now, but sooner or later they'll make their move._

Still playing the role of the naive panda, Po smiled and stood, facing her. He was a few inches taller than her. Tabby's red eyes had an excited look in them, as she turned and departed the noodle shop. "Oh, yeah, my food." He turned and quickly devoured the rest of the bean buns, grabbed the bowl with the noodles and slurped the contents down in one huge gulp. _Whatever's coming, I can't do it on an empty stomach._

After telling his dad where he was going, to which Mr. Ping winked knowingly at, he departed. Tabby was waiting for him, leaning against the wall of the noodle shop. Still no sign of Tao. If that was his real name. When she saw him, she turned and vanished down a quiet side street, with a glance over her shoulder and a disarming smile. Po wasn't fooled by it. He was ninety nine percent sure who this was now, and he had to play it cool. _Ha. And Shifu always said I wasn't cunning or clever enough to act. This'll show him._

When Po followed her, she opened the door to a house- one which he knew was currently vacant, as the previous owners had left town a few weeks back- and stepped inside. _This is a bad idea,_ he thought. _I have no idea how powerful she is, or what she's capable of, and she seems to know a lot about me._ There were times when you had to listen to your instincts and not be a fool. Taking a deep breath, he followed the she-wolf into the house.

The door shut behind him as soon as he entered the house, and he could feel Tabby's warm body press against his back. When she was this close, he realized that she smelled like cloves and... blood. One of her hands grabbed his shoulder, and her other gently stroked down his chest, his belly, towards the front of his pants. "You came here to know your future, Dragon Warrior, but I can give you so much more than that." Her breathing was low and fast in his ear."I can lift the burden of your responsibilities and replace it with blissful agony. Pain is the second greatest pleasure in this world, but the blood, oh, the blood... That is the epitome of euphoria."

Her claws dug deep into his shoulder, making him flinch and making crimson well up from the flesh. Po quickly spun around, breaking his hold on her and sending her stumbling a few steps back. "Do you think I was born yesterday, Tabula Rasa?" He asked with a smirk. He was in his battle stance. To her credit, the she-wolf didn't look surprised for long. "Come on. Tabby? Seriously? You really thought that would fool me? Never underestimate the awesome genius of the Dragon Warrior. And I know that kid you were with was Mèng, too. He isn't really your son at all, is he?"

"What a clever panda," Tabula Rasa murmured, not trying to hide who she was anymore. She licked his blood off of her claw with a smile. "The Master said you would be an easy mark, but I assumed you were better than that. I am not disappointed. But I have broken far more wary minds than you, Dragon Warrior. Now that your blood is in my system, you are _mine_."

...

Tigress drifted in an endless sea of oblivion, lost in the weightless ecstasy it bestowed. There was nothing; she was nothing, just another particle floating in this inter-dimensional harmonic. It would have been peaceful if her mind weren't filled with the picture of Po pleading her to run before she bled to death while the puppets flew towards him. _Not even running saved my life. He sacrificed himself to save me, and it was all in vain._

Tigress opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the bamboo ceiling over which shadows danced like trapped souls in an endless waltz. It was dark, but she could tell she was in a room lit by a single candle. The pungent smells of all manner of medicines and herbs assaulted her senses when she sniffed the air. _I'm... alive? Or is this what the spirit realm looks like?_

Her throat was so parched it felt like it was made of sandpaper, but oddly enough she felt no pain. Slowly she turned her head to observe her surroundings in better detail. She was laying in a cot, next to a table with all manner of alchemical supplies; a mortar and pestle, vials made of glass and clay, and herbs in terracotta vases. This place looked familiar.

"Rise and fucking shine, lazybones. Death isn't going to claim you just yet."

The voice had come from the shadows. The light from the candle made the shadows appear much darker than they were, but she knew that voice. "Min?" It _was_ him. The healer was often responsible for patching up the more serious wounds they got when they didn't want to waste time going up the thousand stairs to the medical wing of the Jade Palace.

"I've been called worse, I suppose." Now she could see him; he had his back to her, standing just out of the candlelight. The sable turned around and walked to the table.

"Po." She said, feeling her heartbeat quicken when she spoke his name. "I have to go after him. He's in terrible danger!"

"No, he isn't." Min said, grabbing a cup off the table and giving it an experimental sniff. He instantly recoiled. "Whoa! That's not water." He grabbed another cup and sniffed it, nodding approvingly before handing it to her. "This one is. Here, drink. Po left about twenty minutes ago after administering magical water. I told him to go to the noodle shop to eat, and I made everyone get the fuck out so you'd be able to breathe once you awoke. Feel the area where you were were stabbed. Go on."

Tigress took the cup gratefully and slammed it all in one go, allowing her head to fall back onto the pillow, feeling the icy water sate her thirst. She breathed a sigh of relief when she finished and set the cup down on the table next to her. Po was alright. How, she had no idea, especially after seeing him get buried under an army of puppets, but she was immensely glad he had somehow survived. Then she processed Min's last sentence, and shuddered when she remembered the Puppet Master's spear impaling her, watching her own lifeblood run down the wooden shaft, and her hand went to where she had received the wound.

"What?" Was all she could say when she discovered that there was nothing there.

"Hm. Pretty much the same reaction we all had, there. Albeit with a little more cursing on my behalf, I'll admit. You're lucky that Shifu and the others found you in the road when they did. You should have been dead the second the spear was withdrawn from your body. Your claws are back, too, although you hardly ever use them anyway. That's presumably why you ground them down to bloody stumps so easily last night." A quick glance confirmed this as well. It was impossible. Then she recalled what happened right before the Puppet Master came at them with his army.

"I think I know what potion you're referring to." Tigress said. "Sârmă had managed to impale himself on bamboo, either by accident or on purpose. He used some kind of potion to heal himself."

"Like this?" Min asked, holding up a bone vial. She nodded. "That's the exact one. How was Po able to get his hands on it?"

"He'd be pissed if I told you the story. Now that you're awake, I am free to enlighten you to the negativity of this magic. I just got through explaining it to the panda, well, the important parts, so I'm going to make this quick. Essentially, the Water possesses the ability to heal any wound, which you already know, but it will take something vital away from you in return. There are only a few people in China who would understand the detailed description, but suffice it to say you and the panda have a very old and very powerful demon living inside of you."

Tigress's breath caught in her throat. "A demon? How could water have a demon in it?"

"That is a mystery which I was going to solve as soon as you are on your feet again. Fortunately, I know a couple of the only people who might possess an inkling of information on this subject. Don't ask who; they're people best left out of justice's watchful eye. You must be vigilant, however, and mindful of any symptoms that might arise from having such evil essence swimming in your veins. Po also used it on himself, so keep an eye on him too, because I doubt if he will. Come to me when you notice _anything._ In you, or him.

"Now, I was supposed to tell your friends when you woke up, but I think you can do it yourself. Just don't stand up while I'm in the room. Your vest was torn up and bloody when Crane brought you here, so I had to dispose of it. Shifu left you this shiny new outfit, though. I think you will quite like it." He passed her a bundle wrapped in silk. "Po went down to the noodle shop, as I said before. The others went up to the palace to train until I gave them the word that you were awake. Anywho, get dressed and go meet Po. I'm sure he will be overjoyed to see you well."

"Yes. I'll be down in a minute. Thank you for all you've done, Min."

"Don't thank me." the sable said as he opened the door. "All I did was keep you breathing for a while until the Dragon Warrior healed you. Thank _him;_ he is the real hero in all of this. Don't believe me? Ask him what happened last night when you see him. Don't forget to go straight to Shifu afterwards."

Then he left, shutting the door behind him and leaving Tigress alone in the room. This whole situation was starting to seem unreal. A magical healing water that somehow had a demon inside of it? She had battled demons before, but never had one living inside of her. She also didn't feel any different. In fact, she felt great. Like she could take on thousands of evil spirits single-handedly without breaking a sweat. But Min was no liar; he might keep some things from you, but never outright lie. If he said there was a demon within you, there probably was.

Tigress lifted the flap at the top of the bundle and peered inside. The garment that Shifu had left for her was quite impressive; a golden tabard with long sleeves, emblazoned with patterns of red leaves and branches much like her previous one. It was magnificent. When she put it on, she was hardly surprised to discover that it fit her perfectly. It was made out of cloth, light enough that she could move and fight unhindered, yet thick enough so that it wouldn't easily rip unless torn by weapons or claws.

She stood up from the cot, oddly not feeling any stiffness from her near-death experience or being still all night long. Perhaps it was an effect of the Water. Tigress walked over to the door, pausing to look at herself in the polished slab of glass that functioned as a mirror. Her new garb made her look like a Grandmaster or maybe an honor guard for the emperor. _This new look is even better than my last one, and it won't impede my movement at all. I could definitely work with this._

The loud, frantic rapping right next to her ear made her wince, being used to the quiet of the room. Someone was knocking at the door. When she opened it, she saw Min standing there. He had a panicked look on his face. "Min? Did something happen already?" A thousand different scenarios ran through her mind in the span of one second, most involving the Puppet Master or demons. But she felt a deeper twinge of fear when he spoke.

"Do you remember what I said about the Dragon Warrior not being in trouble? Well, that's not a fucking thing anymore. He is in more danger now than he was last night, after you fell unconscious."


	14. The Red Tarot

"Mmmmm... no. I still feel like I belong to myself."

Tabula Rasa grinned. "I was able to lure you in here easily, wasn't I? Where no one can hear your screams."

Po's jaw slackened. "How do you know _I_ didn't lure _you_ here? Maybe I didn't want to have to pay for any more damages to my dad's shop. I think he's had to deal with that enough from me."

Her laugh could have lain waste to nations and turned men to salt. "Even in the face of death, you still try to act like you knew what you were doing. Just what I'd expect from the Dragon Warrior. You think you stand a chance against me? Try to land a hit on me. Just. Try it."

"Well, can't refuse that offer." Po said, readying himself to do a flying kick. "Get ready to feel the-AHHH!" The floorboards beneath him broke and he fell straight down to his stomach, the splintered wood scraping the sides of his legs and leaving tiny slivers embedded in his hips. "Gah! Right when I thought I was losing weight. Don't worry, I'm gonna be kicking your ass in a second... Ow. Ow." He struggled unsuccessfully to free himself, but only succeeded in driving the splinters deeper into his flesh.

Tabula Rasa crouched down on her haunches, her red eyes meeting his. She didn't make a single move towards him. "Fate," she said, "Is a cruel son of a bitch, no?"

"Ah... no. Just gotta lay off on the bean buns for a bit."

The clattering sound of many tiny objects rolling across the wood made him stop trying to free himself and look up. Dozens of white pieces were scattered on the floor a few feet in front of his face. "You know, caltrops only work when I _don't_ see you place them." He pointed out as he pushed with all his might on the undamaged planks on either side of him, feeling his hips slide past the hole he'd made in the floor. _I'll just blame it on some young hooligans when someone wants to buy this place._

Tabula Rasa cocked her head intently, watching him as he broke free of his wooden constraints. When he had almost gotten his knees up, she casually flicked one of the white objects a few inches to the right. Po realized that they were actually tiny bones. Right after she did that, he heard the floorboards crack perilously loudly. "Are you kidding me?" He got out right before the floor collapsed and plunged him into darkness. He landed hard amidst broken wood and drywall, coughing as particles of dust filled his lungs.

"Such an easy thing to manipulate, destiny is," Tabula Rasa murmured, looking down at him with an almost pitying look. "The bones can tell me your fate, and I can change the course of it. No matter how hard you try, you will never hit me while your blood is in my system. But I can do whatever I want with you."

"No, you can't!" Po retorted, standing up and getting ready to jump up to the main floor. He'd practised jumping quite a bit in the Training Hall, and though he'd never be able to match Tigress's prowess, he could clear this little hop easily. Bunching his muscles, he leaped up to the main floor. The she-wolf snatched up the bones before he landed and walked backwards a few paces with a wicked slasher smile.

"Finally! Now we can battle for real!"

"Let's test that theory of yours, panda."

Before he launched another attack, Po pressed on the floorboards in front of him with one foot to test their structural integrity. They creaked a little but otherwise seem sturdy enough. "Alright, now-" Something heavy came down from the ceiling and smacked him on his head, knocking him down. It was one of the supporting rafters from the ceiling. His ears were ringing from the force of it. "I thought this house was brand new! What did that guy do to it to make it fall apart like this? No wonder he moved out."

Tabula Rasa was chuckling. " _He_ did nothing. Fate is the driving force. Fate is a manifestation of _my_ will."

"I think... you may have partly convinced me." Po panted, getting to his feet and struggling to maintain that position. The room was spinning around him, and it looked like there were three Tabula Rasas standing in front of him. _It seems I'm gonna have to bring this outside. I can't get anywhere when all this stuff keeps breaking on me._ Focusing all his willpower, Po's gaze locked on the door behind her, readying himself to charge at it. _Maybe if I don't directly try to attack her, I could beat her. Let's see if this works._

With a roar that caught her off guard, Po bum rushed the door. Tabula Rasa's eyes widened in surprise when her manipulation of fate didn't stop him and leaped out of the way. He crashed through the door and spun around in midair to land on his feet in the street outside, facing the yawning threshold he had just exited the building from. Tabula Rasa casually strode out the door as though nothing of any particular concern were happening.

"Brilliant strategy, Dragon Warrior." she said. "Go outside, where a meteor could suddenly drop on your head, or an earthquake could tear the land beneath you asunder. Like I said before, fate is a cruel son of a bitch." As if in agreement to her words, a faint tremor resonated through the ground under his feet. Tabula Rasa's smile proved that it was her doing. A chill ran down his spine.

"Being in that house won't protect me from either of those things, anyway." Po said, but then he heard the faint sounds of footsteps coming up beside him. When he looked, he saw the rabbit child Tao- no, _Mèng_ \- shuffling towards him. The gansu pika's ears weren't covering his expression anymore, and now Po saw why he'd been hiding his face before.

The kid's eyes and mouth were stitched shut.

It was Po's turn to be caught off guard. He jumped back when Mèng got close to him; despite the fact that the little rabbit was only a child, there was surely a reason he served the Master. He slowly lifted one tiny, trembling paw and pointed at the panda. Just pointed. Po frowned as Mèng held that pose, and then that's when things got weird.

The buildings, the ground, even the sky itself gradually began to melt, and he became aware of the distant cacophony of screams- a symphony of agony. Then the sun vanished in the blink of an eye, and the world quickly morphed into an endless black void. _What the hell is going on?_ Po wondered uneasily. He was still in his battle stance, but now was on high alert for anything that might manifest along with this strange nightmare. The stench of death was strong now, and the screaming became thunderous as shapes began to take form. He pressed his hands over his ears to shut out the noise, but he quickly realized that they were inside of his head.

"Mèng, stay out of this." Tabula Rasa's voice boomed louder than everything else, making Po wince. "Remember the Master's instructions? If he- or any of the Five- die, then we will suffer a much worse fate than them."

In an instant, the world went back to normal. Tabula Rasa was standing next to Mèng now, in the middle of the street, Po's head still spinning as he readjusted to the earth's timeframe. _That was the weirdest thing ever. Was that some kind of illusion? Or did Mèng take me to another world._ Po rubbed his forehead. _And why the hell aren't they attacking? It must be something to do with the Hero's Chi. The Master did let me live because of it._

"Why are you guys even here?" Po asked them- well, asked the she-wolf, since Mèng wasn't going to be saying anything. "What is it about this urn that your Master wants so badly?"

"I am not here for the urn," Tabula Rasa said. "I am here to gather information. In fact, I believe I have gotten what I need to know from you already. You see, I-" A foot struck her in the side of the face, and she went flying until she hit a house and made the entire wall tremble on its foundations. "Tigress!" Po shouted in delight. "You're alright! Sweet outfit."

There she stood, like a goddess of war. She had swapped her red vest- probably because it had been torn up- for an elegant golden tabard decorated with images of red leaves and branches. Min stood beside her, dressed in the brown and green robes he always seemed to be wearing.

"Are _you_ alright?" Tigress asked him, concerned. He nodded. "Alright, bring me up to speed on what's happening. How does she fight?"

"I don't know! She hasn't actually used any fighting techniques. She's some kind of witch; the only thing I can really say is don't let her taste your blood."

Tigress frowned. "Odd. But I suppose that's an easy enough thing to avoid."

Po chuckled nervously. "Yeah... yeah."

"She tasted your blood, didn't she?"

"...yes."

Tabula Rasa had recovered from the tremendous blow, standing unsteadily with blood dripping from her mouth. "Master Tigress, I presume. Unless if you are misnamed." She said, still smiling despite the injury she just sustained. If anything, she looked healthier and more enlivened from being hurt. Mèng, seemingly unconcerned by the entire ordeal, strode up to stand behind Tabula Rasa, then turned to face them.

"A child?" Tigress frowned. "Why is there a child with her?"

"They both serve the same Master that Sârmă did. Don't underestimate either of them."

Tigress nodded curtly. "So, have you two finished talking yet?" Tabula Rasa asked, leaning against the wall and looking bored.

"Just about." Tigress said. "Po!" As one, they both leaped into the air, Tigress performing an aerial kick while Po used his feet of fury. Tigress was there a second before he was, her kick hitting Tabula Rasa directly on the top of her snout, driving her face-first into the ground. Po froze in midair. "What? Come on!" And the world began distorting again, the same way it had before. "Mèng!" Tabula Rasa shouted from her position on the ground, struggling to get up. "What did I just tell you?"

Tigress threw another punch as Po was released from the spectral grasp. The she-wolf was knocked down again, but this time she used the momentum and rolled back to her feet. She wasn't smiling anymore; her bloody teeth were bared, and her chin and neck were stained red. "You are beginning to annoy me, masters. I'm done playing games with you." She pulled something out from one of the pouches around her neck. It was a spearhead, snapped off right at the end of the shaft and crusted with recently dried blood.

"Remember this?" Tabula Rasa said, waving it in front of her. "I should hope so. You were stabbed with it last night. The Puppet Master is a truly generous man to give it to me." She licked the blade, and then sliced open the palms of her own hands. The blood came abundantly, and she raised her arms into the air. The red streams fell towards the ground, but to Po and Tigress's amazement, they never hit the ground.

Every drop dispersed in the air, turning into a harsh bloody mist. It swirled around Tabula Rasa like the embrace of a hellish demon, and the grin reappeared on her face. "Remember what I told you in the house, Dragon Warrior? About pain and blood being the two greatest pleasures in this world? You will both see what I meant about that. You will be _begging_ me to increase your suffering; everyone else does."

The red mist thickened, filling the air between them. Po and Tigress leaped back to avoid it, uncertain as to what it would do if they came in contact with it. The crazy wolf seemed pretty sure that it was going to bring them agony. "Hemomancy!" Min exclaimed; Po had forgotten he was there. "I heard legends about such an art before, but I thought they were myths. Impressive."

"Yes, I think I'm the only practitioner," she said. "One of my less intriguing abilities, but still quite powerful nonetheless. I would use something better, but I'm supposed to let Masters Po and Tigress live. You, on the other hand..." Tabula Rasa gestured, and a bolt of lightning shot out of her hand, going directly into the mist. The electricity crackled as it bounced from droplet to droplet, almost blinding the three of them. It was clearly an intimidation technique rather than an actual attack, but the only purpose it served was to make them shield their eyes for a moment.

"Po, Tigress, stand back." Min said, stepping forward and facing the crazed she-wolf. "Defeating rogue mages used to be my job. Let me handle this."

"Mèng isn't gonna be causing any trouble, unless if she's in a pickle." Po said, disappointed and more than a little surprised at his decision, but he knew that neither he or Tigress could do anything since their blood was in her system. He stepped back, and nodded for the feline to do the same. Her eyes widened. "Po, we can't let him fight her alone! He's a healer, not a warrior."

"Before he became a healer, he was a Kung Fu Master." Po said. "Besides, Tabula Rasa tasted your blood. We can't hit her until our blood is out of her system. Trust me, I know. Just stand back and watch. If it looks like he's in any trouble, we'll do what we can." Tigress still looked unhappy with letting the healer fight the witch alone, but she nodded and stood back. "Be careful, Min," she said to the sable.

"Thank you for your concern, but she stands no chance against a stronger mage like myself." he said, taking another step forward and extending his hands forward. An energy charge jolted through the air as he did that, so powerful it was almost visible. "You have made your last mistake here, gypsy." he snarled at the she-wolf. "You shall know endless torment at my hands!"

...

Min stared into Tabula Rasa's chilling red gaze, unfazed by the blood cloud that had resumed its spiralling pattern around its owner. She was incredibly powerful; even someone who couldn't use magic could see it, but what really frightened him was the thought that someone was strong enough to control her. He couldn't hold back his own power in the slightest, or she would kill him. Fortunately, he was easily the strongest warlock in China, maybe in the world.

Min took a deep breath, and the heat itself was sucked out the sun as he inhaled the living fire from the electrons in the air. He spat out an incantation as though it were a curse and channeled the absorbed power into a massive, superheated shockwave of fire and destructive will. The entire world twisted like Pangu had a little too much to drink, and the sonic boom was so loud it perforated his eardrums. Everything between him and the she-wolf was incinerated, sand turned to glass then shattered and rocks glowed red in the wake of the inferno. The spell wailed like the lost souls of the dead.

Tabula Rasa and Mèng were consumed by the fire, the bloody mist evaporating as the greedy tongues of flame engulfed them. It was almost a full minute before the blazing cyclone began to relent and the wailing to cease and fade into memory. The aftermath was a wall of blue smoke that twirled and danced, unlike natural smoke. He smirked. "Was that all? Damn, I was hoping for something more. Now I see why you're the only hemomancer I've ever met; they're too weak to last long."

The smoke gradually lifted, and Min's jaw dropped. Tabula Rasa rose languidly from the middle of a crater, the edges of which had been turned to glass from the indescribable heat of his attack. She was completely unscathed; not even the slightest residue of soot stained her white fur. Mèng was also fine, his stitched-up eyes and mouth twitching as though trying to laugh.

"That," she said. "Was impressive as hell. And right after I thought there were no real mages in this country. I'm going to drag your torture on for decades."

This was impossible. That spell was designed to bypass any magical protection wards the enemy may have erected around themselves. Min hadn't felt anything of the sort, and there was no reason that his adversaries should be immune to it. "What the hell are you?" he demanded.

"What am I?" Tabula Rasa said. "Now, is there any real answer I can give? I have been so many things that I have no true definition. Suffice it to say I am your death."

"Min," Tigress said. She looked shocked at the power the healer had just shown. "Do you need our help _now_?"

"No. Just sit back and enjoy the show. No one can best me in a battle of magi." Right after he said this, he clapped his hand and a thunderclap shattered the air. Invisible blades of wind flew from every direction and bombarded Tabula Rasa. Min didn't stop there. He shouted a word of power and part of the sky itself detached and descended on her. It hit her head-on and exploded in a tremendous flash of blue and white. When it cleared, she was hardly fazed, standing with one hand on her hip.

"My turn." she said, and the haze of blood rematerialized and shot towards Min. It was so incredibly fast that he couldn't even react. The red mist engulfed him, and Tabula Rasa sent a bolt of electricity through it. The lightning had a powerful reaction to the water in the blood, and Min was barely able to throw up a defensive ward in time. The energy crackled against it, but the ward took most of the damage before shattering and singing him. They were only minor burns- little more than distractions. It did, however, buy him precious seconds to draw some of the power from her spell and throw a counterattack in the form of a lightning spear. She dodged it and laughed.

"You know, you look _very_ familiar to me. I know someone you looks a lot like you. Different magic, but the same arrogant disposition. You are a little more powerful, though. Unfortunately, I am a goddess."

Tigress attacked her from behind, sending her flying with a mighty kick. Po was ready on the other side, and he mirrored her kick, making her land hard on her back between them. "Ha! Can't manipulate our fate when you're distracted, can you?" Po said. "Bummer, huh?"

This time, she was much slower in recovering. The fate manipulation, the hemomancy, and deflecting Min's attacks were clearly taking a heavy toll on her. "You..." Tabula Rasa panted, rising to her feet yet again. "Are a tactless shitkicker. To think you could actually land a hit on me. The Master really _did_ underestimate you."

Min send a pulse of heat through the glass that he'd created, making it glow white. Within a few seconds, it exploded and sent thousands of shards into her. Tabula Rasa spread out her arms and laughed as they ripped her open. "Thank you." she said. "You just made my hemomancy stronger. How I wish I could use one of my powerful abilities, but, alas, they would kill all three of you. A true shame."

There was a flicker of distortion around her. Min frowned at first, then gasped when he realized what was happening. The air was filled with the stench of rot and corpses as the demons tore open the veil of reality and forced themselves into existence. The smile slipped from Tabula Rasa's face. "Are you serious? Already?" She snarled, and her eyes glowed as she gave voice to her frustration. "Well, I suppose you already told me what I came here to learn anyway, panda."

"Oh really?" Po smirked. "And what was that?"

"I came to learn about the Five's family, people who would surely be missed when they turned up dead. I didn't even have to try to get answers, you freely gave them. Excellent job." She clapped drily.

"I never told you anything!"

"Mei Ling?" Tabula Rasa said. "Great Master Viper? I simply brought up the Furious Five, and you told me their stories without any prompting. We can get to them much faster than you can."

A cold lump of dread formed in his belly. "Ah, crap."

"Yes." she said. "Ah, crap. Anywho, these demons are my cue to leave. Enjoy. Mèng, let's hightail it."

The ground burst open and a gigantic worm came forth from the wound gouged in the world. It opened up a vast, cavernous mouth and swallowed Mèng and Tabula Rasa whole, before vanishing into thin air. It left no crater in the ground when it disappeared. "Whoa!" Po shouted. "What in the hell was that?"

"It seems like some kind of escape device they've had ready this whole time," Tigress said. "Honestly, after seeing what those two can do, a giant worm isn't exactly a huge shock"

By now, the demons had fully materialized and were standing there, snarling. They were monstrous; rotting corpses with long, red tongues that hung out of their mouths like putrid vines. There was a noose wrapped around each of their necks, the ropes dangling down their backs.

"Diao si gui." Min said. "Shit, these guys are annoying. They were summoned up by a ritual, too, rather than an accident. That means that we can kill them again and again, but they'll keep coming back until we find the ritual site and reverse it. These were not the gypsy's creations, no doubt."

"They can't come back right away, can they?" Tigress asked. Min shook his head. "Then we can kill them now, and deal with the ritual site later. You've done enough, Min. Let Po and I handle this."

Min sighed, rubbing his eyes. He looked much older now than he had ten minutes ago. His fur was blackened from Tabula Rasa's relentless attacks, and burned off in some places. Clearly the mage battle had taken quite a toll on him. "Alright. I'll stick around in case you need help, but I'll just watch." After saying this, he sat down on the soot-stained street, panting hard. Po and Tigress took up their positions side-by-side as the Diao si gui charged. Tigress punched one in the face when it came close to her, breaking its neck but not slowing its advance. Its tongue shot out and wrapped around her wrist; it felt like a slimy worm. Tigress unsheathed her claws and severed it with a deft swipe, then used her signature double-palm strike and knocked it away. She leaped forward with a frontflip and crushed its head under her feet. The skull shattered into dust and bone.

Po dodged the tongue of one of the hanged ghosts and grabbed it, swinging the demon around like a meteor hammer and throwing it into another one. They were both bowled over easily, but they quickly rose to their feet. Tigress grabbed one from behind and spun it around. She gripped it by the chest and with a grunt of effort and one mighty heave, tore its ribcage right out of its torso. She shattered it over the Diao si gui's head and kicked it away, where it fell and didn't get up again.

"These things are pretty flimsy, aren't they?" Po said, sweeping one off its feet as it ran at him with a guttural screech. He shoved it face-first into the side of a building and punched the back of its head into the stone. There was a meaty crunch, and the demon collapsed to the ground without moving. Now there was only one hanged ghost remaining, but it didn't seem to notice that it was the last. Po and Tigress looked at each other.

"Do you want this one?" she asked

"No, you take it, I insist." He politely gestured toward the demon which was shambling towards them, gaining speed to charge. Tigress shrugged, and then ran at it on all fours. The Diao si gui roared in excitement, picking up its pace, but was taken down by a single double-palm strike. It fell back onto the pavement, the front of its skull crushed and splintered.

"They really do go down easily." Tigress commented. "Did their conjurers really think those things would be a threat to us?"

"The ritual site is clearly a good distance away, at least a few miles." Min said, unsteadily rising to his feet. "That's why they were so weak. If you went to the grounds where they were hung, they would be much more durable and have better coordination. I think they were summoned to be a slight distraction, or maybe just to show you what kind of creatures they could bring to life. I can't say anything for sure, but I do know that they weren't summoned by any of the Master's servitors. They were created and brought here by a Chinese mage, like me. A Sellspell, I think, or some other kind of magical contract killer."

"So, you're a mage, then." Tigress said to him. "Why did you never tell any of us? Your skills could have been invaluable to us many times in the past."

"Yeah." Po agreed. "Why would you want to hide how awesome you are? If I could do all of that, you guys would never hear the end of it!"

"There is no doubt in my mind that we ever would." Min said. "But my abilities are another reason why I decided to leave the Jade Palace. That, and drug abuse, illegal experiments, infernal rituals... you know, the usual. I had a much different way of doing things than Oogway did, so I left, fortunately on good terms with the Grandmaster. The main reason, of course, was so I could become a healer without having to fight anymore. I think I pushed myself a bit too hard today with the destructive spells. I haven't used such powerful magic in almost a decade."

"Then we need to get you back to your shop to rest," Tigress said.

"No. _You_ must go up to the Jade Palace to show Shifu and the others that you are alright. I can get back myself. Besides, I think the Grandmaster would be more inclined to believe you than the Dragon Warrior when you explain why these damages occurred." He gestured to the area behind her. The vacant house was now a vacant patch of soot and ash, and most of the street was blackened from fire or simply melted into glass. A crowd of spectators had gathered and were staring at the three of them, wide-eyed. Tigress sighed.

"Good thing there weren't any witnesses," she muttered under her breath. Po smiled faintly, then stepped forward and addressed the crowd.

"Alright everyone, there's nothing more to see here. We've taken care of the problem. Go on, enjoy the rest of your day." It took a few moments, but eventually the crowd stopped gawking and hesitantly dispersed and went about their day, whispering amongst themselves. "It's strange how quick they are to believe that everything's alright when a Kung Fu master says so." Min observed. It looked like he was already starting to recover from the exertion he had to endure mere minutes ago.

"Now that _that_ inconvenience is over with," Tigress began, turning back to Po. "Who were those people?"

"The wolf was Tabula Rasa, and the bunny was Mèng. They're both crazy, and they work with the Puppet Master."

"I figured as much. So, what happened last night? After the chase."

Po opened his mouth, about to tell her about his crucifixion and the meeting with the Master, but before he could begin, Min interrupted. "Look who's coming! I'm surprised they were this late, really."

When Po and Tigress turned, they saw the rest of the Furious Five rushing towards them. They stopped when they saw the aftermath of their battle with Tabula Rasa and Mèng, taking in the utter carnage that greeted them. "Tigress!" Viper was the first to call out her friends name. "You're alright!"

They all rushed up and embraced her in a group hug. Po and Min sat back, smiling when Tigress tried pushing them all away after a minute of being completely swarmed by them. "Okay, that's enough. You can let go now"

"We thought you were going to die!" Viper exclaimed. "But Po brought some kind of potion that healed you when he arrived."

"I know. Min told me about that. He also warned me of any... potential side effects it might bring."

"So, what the hell did you guys do in the twenty or so minutes we left you?" Mantis suddenly asked. "This seems like too much destruction for you two to have caused alone."

"Apologies, that was me." Min said, bowing humbly.

"I was attacked by two of the Master's servants." Po explained. "Tigress and Min came and helped me out. Min can apparently destroy lots of stuff in a small amount of time. Anyways, they've gone away now. Some Diao si gui attacked us too, right after they ran off. They went down really easy. Speaking of which, where did their bodies go?"

"Hanged _ghosts_ generally don't leave corpses." Min said. "I take it one of the bystanders were the ones who informed you of this situation?" He directed the question at the Furious Five.

Viper nodded. "It was Mrs. Yoon. She ran all the way up the thousand steps to tell us that the Dragon Warrior was in trouble. I guess it was before you two got here to help him."

Po shrugged. "Guess so. We should probably go up to the palace now. Shifu's probably wondering what I've gotten myself into. Hey, Tigress, I'll tell you what happened on the way."

"Fifty janitors chewing coco leaves couldn't clean this mess up." Min gestured towards the obliterated street. "But on the bright side, it'll probably be a tourist attraction. Good thing that house was abandoned before I annihilated it with a fiery cyclone."

"Oh yeah, there was a house there." Mantis said, looking at the remains. It was just a black outline now. "We were all wondering what the origin of that blazing tornado was. _You_ seriously caused that, Min? Pretty impressive for a healer."

Min shrugged in response, but didn't say anything more. "I've got to get back to my shop now. I now recall a pig sitting in the main floor with a broken arm. So much for my day off... Goodbye for now, friends. Po, Tigress... remember what I told you both."

"About what?" the panda frowned.

"I think he means the Water." Tigress told him. "Come on, let's get to the palace. I want to hear your story on the way."

"Oh yeah!"

Together the six of them turned around and headed towards the thousand steps that lead up to the palace. It was well past noon now, and the heat of the day promised to only increase in its intensity. It was so bright and sunny out that Po could easily forget about the whole ordeal of what just happened, and the events of last night. But he was just dying to tell Tigress what awesomeness he had been up to last night.

"So, I got nailed to a cross last night-" He started.

" _What?!_ "


	15. The Butcher

_Shi Renzu's mother always told him he was destined for greatness._

 _As a child, he had grown up on a farm, and had a relatively average life when he lived there. Growing crops, nurturing them, then eventually harvesting them; a simple but taxing existence. It wasn't a bad life, no, but he always felt that he was meant to do so much more. At the age of ten, the gorilla had grown much bigger and stronger than anyone his age, a testament to the hard work he endured, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't living up to his true potential._

 _Whenever Shi Renzu's father asked him to collect firewood for them, he took his time practising swinging the axe, imagining that he was fighting enemies, dreaming to be a hero on scale with Master Oogway or those under his tutelage. It always seemed like it was a dream he would never fulfil, always out of reach. Despite his strength, his size, and his sheer endurance, he didn't possess the agility or mental quickness to truly become a Kung Fu Master; or at least that's what a Shaolin monk passing by his farmstead had told him when he asked them._

 _Shi Renzu vowed to prove them wrong. He practiced with his axe every day, until he became so strong he could fell a mighty tree with a single swing. Everyone who saw him do this was extremely impressed, and his parents told him that he might one day be a great warrior. Every day he prayed that another monk or Kung Fu master would pass by his home so he could show them how powerful he was. They never did._

 _When he was twenty five years old, Shi Renzu set out for the Jade Palace to request the training of the great Oogway. He bid his parents farewell and promised that he would return a hero that they could be proud of. The journey was hard; the Jade Palace was pretty much on the other side of China from where he lived, but he never once doubted that he was making the wrong decision or being a delusional fool. It was his life's journey, after all, and if you didn't have the will to chase your dream, then why bother being alive?_

 _He never reached the Jade Palace. No, because destiny showed him his true purpose by slapping him upside the head. On a snowy road leading through a vast mountain range, Shi Renzu was ambushed by a group of wolf bandits. It had been the very first time he had ever been in a real fight. In that moment, he had flashbacks to when he was a kid, imagining that he was fighting off hordes of bad guys, dreaming of the tales of heroism that would be told throughout the ages about him. The only weapon he had brought with him on his journey had been a lumber axe from the farmstead, and he took it up and vowed that those dreams would be a reality._

 _Their weapons were no match for his might; their blades couldn't pierce his hide, and their puny clubs and bludgeons were like the buzzing of gnats in his ears. Every swing of his axe felled several of them, and it didn't take long for Shi Renzu to be the only one standing, a stoic fortress of muscle and brute determination. The cold was just a faint nip, the swirling snow a mere haze that obscured his vision. He was about to leave their corpses and the blood, steaming in the freezing wind, behind, when a figure revealed itself from a hiding place behind a rock._

 _He was a white peacock; a very unusual sight especially this far in the mountains, with an odd pattern of red eyes on his tail. He introduced himself to Shi Renzu as Lord Shen. He claimed to be an emperor, who had been driven away from his own home because of his own parent's jealousy. Lord Shen told him that he was impressed by the power Shi Renzu had shown in fighting his warriors, and proposed that he join him in retaking his home as one of his most trusted bodyguards._

 _Even though it wasn't exactly as he expected, Shi Renzu felt that this was his true calling after all._

 _He joined Lord Shen's ragtag group, and he towered above everyone else, even the other gorillas. They all heard what he had done, and how he had not sustained a single injury, and they were afraid of him. For a time, he was happy. A real, meaningful purpose; protecting his emperor no matter the cost, even if it meant his own life. When they took back the city from the tyrants of the Kung Fu Council, he looked to himself as a true hero, a loyal warrior willing to risk anything for Lord Shen._

 _Shortly after they liberated the city, word reached Lord Shen that the Dragon Warrior and the Furious Five had arrived to bring him to justice. Shi Renzu's lord seemed to panic, raving about a prophecy of 'black and white'. Though he had tossed his axe away a long time ago, he was still willing to risk all to protect Lord Shen. As it turned out, that was not necessary. They had been captured before they even reached the Tower of Sacred Flame. It was laughable, really; how foolish he had been when he had dreamed that he would be one of these people. When the so-called Dragon Warrior puked shortly after beginning his ascent up the stairs, Shi Renzu had been forced to carry him on his back the rest of the way._

 _Shi Renzu was amazed that these people- who were supposed to be the greatest warriors in China- had gotten Lord Shen so worked up. He stayed close regardless, but there was no real need to be on the defensive. They were in chains, after all, and were soon to discover the fate of those who crossed his lord. He had been a fool to let his guard down._

 _They broke free of their bonds, and managed to destroy one of Shen's prized weapons, collapsing most of the floor in the process. Thankfully, his lord was able to get away because of the hesitation of the Dragon Warrior. Lord Shen, after escaping to his fireworks factory, bombarded the tower with the cannons and made it collapse, burying Shi Renzu and everyone in it beneath tons of rubble. He wasn't angry at this; what better way to die than sacrificing yourself for your lord?_

 _After a while, he realized that the darkness was not permanent. He hadn't been killed by the collapse._

 _But try as he might, Shi Renzu could not get out of the debris, even with his superior strength. He roared and pushed with everything he had, every fibre of muscle, every bone, every scrap of will that had led him to where he was. Eventually, he gave up and sat down amidst the corpses of his former comrades, crushed and misshapen from the falling structure. Days passed- or maybe it was hours, who could say for sure- and he began talking to himself to keep company, asking why, oh why, was he the only survivor? His childhood dreams were so distant now._

 _Starvation and dehydration eventually set in, making the madness grow ever blacker, and Shi Renzu pleaded with the gods to kill him now, to spare him another second of this silent, dark torture. Everything, every vision of grandeur, every single battle he had fought in honour of Lord Shen, caught up to him and he knew, no matter what, that this was not going to be the end for him. After gazing at the bodies of his fellow warriors for a while, comrades who he had fought and bled with, he did the only thing he could to survive._

 _Shi Renzu devoured them all; their cold, gelatinous blood ran down his chin and he had to force every bite, telling himself that it was the only way he could live and kill the Furious Five in Lord Shen's name. After he had finished, their bones strewn about their grave, he realized that the horror he felt while eating them was only because they had been his brothers-in-arms. In truth, he loved the taste of their meat, even if it had been sitting around for days. Perhaps it was just his hunger that made him feel this way, or perhaps it was something else. He felt the need, the irresistable urge, to see what flesh tasted like when it had been ripped out of someone who still lived._

 _Mustering everything he had, all of his strength and all of his desires, old and new, Shi Renzu broke free of the obliterated tower. His roar of triumph and hunger announced his return to this unsuspecting world. He grabbed a sheep, someone who had come to investigate the commotion, maybe, he didn't care, and tore them to bloody shreds with his bare fangs. The taste of living blood was truly intoxicating; his nostrils flared, and even the rays of the sun, agonizing after his time in the darkness, didn't slow his hunger in the slightest. He ripped a large metal plate off the ruins of the tower and used it as a weapon, his sheer overwhelming strength making it a deadly item of slaughter. He killed dozens, maybe hundreds. He lost count; anyone he could find was turned from person to food._

 _Shi Renzu gathered the bodies as quickly as he could, knowing that this would attract the attention of the guards, or whoever the hell ran the city now, and fled. To hell with his Lord Shen; the cowardly peacock was probably dead by now, since the Furious Five had probably escaped the Tower of Sacred Flame when it collapsed and killed mostly everyone inside. He was certain he hadn't eaten their bodies when he was trapped, anyway. Shi Renzu wondered what they would taste like. He hijacked a boat but ran it into some rocks a few hundred feet into the harbour; fortunately, he was close enough to the wilderness that he could run away with his precious feast in tow._

 _After Shi Renzu ate all of the bodies, he felt even more ravenous, still lived in the darkness of that collapsed tower. He had to eat more, had to prevent himself from starving, and that meant that anyone who crossed his path had to die. He wandered through the forests, no perception of time, no grip on reality, just the insatiable need to feast, to taste warm blood. No matter who they were; king or peasant, saint or sinner, they were all just meat, meat, bloody meat. Oh, how hungry he was._

 _There were no faces on his victims; no label that gave him any indication of who they were, and he was fine with that. His new appetite made him grow so much bigger, so much stronger, or maybe that was just how superior he had become to everyone around him. Shi Renzu probably wouldn't even recognize the Furious Five or that pathetic Dragon Warrior if he saw them again; it didn't even matter. They didn't matter, Shen didn't matter, nothing was real, just an illusion, just like the worms that eventually came to him._

 _Their words were so lovely; countless voices, monstrous, ancient, speaking to him all the time. They promised an endless supply of meat for him to feast on, and the opportunity to devour those who had done this to him. Who were they again? Who had he served before? What dream had he followed that led him to this state? He couldn't remember. Shi Renzu had to eat. The prospect of living flesh was the only thing that he could fathom now._

 _Eventually, he realized that he still carried a giant metal plate; it felt so natural in his hands, but where had he gotten it? Somewhere in his mind was flooded with images of a much smaller version of him, swinging his axe at a tree. He knew that if he wanted to follow through the worms on their offer, he would need a better tool to chop, chop, more meat. Shi Renzu cut down a tree and drove the metal plate through the end of the trunk. It felt so much better in his hands than just holding a piece of bloody steel. He went where the voices told him to go, wherever they wanted, his hunger the only true emotion he could feel now._

 _Soon, there would be a feast the likes of which had never been seen before, and it would all be just for him._


	16. Darkness Arise

With a few deft movements of his tiny hands, Min finished re-wrapping the pigs arm in linen. The sable had returned to his shop only a couple of minutes ago, and was happy to discover that there was still only the one patient there. He might actually have the time to do a bit of prodding about to find information on the demoness Lamashtu. This unexpected event had disturbed him, and it was fairly obvious to his patient that he was distracted. When he completed his task, the pig sighed in relief.

"Thank you. I really should have come to you yesterday, when I broke my arm."

"You didn't break it." Min amended. "Just slightly fractured it. And yes, you should have. The reason why you're in so much pain right now is because it hadn't been properly treated."

"Do you have anything you could give me for the pain?" The pig asked. "It's hard enough being an architect with only one functioning arm."

"Hm. I'll see what I have in store, Mr...?" Min said

"Huang."

"Yes, Huang. One moment please." The sable quickly went to the back of his shop where he stored most of his healing herbs and poultices. Min glanced over his shoulder at Huang, who had his back to him, still sitting by the table where he treated less severe injuries. He had to give him credit for his patience. The pig had been idling by for a while, since he had treated Tigress and then had to leave to help Po. He had had to have been sitting there for at least a couple of hours; Min hated making his patients wait, but that had been quite the emergency. Then the panda had come, with that corrupt demon-water, and healed her. To save the day yet again.

 _Lamashtu. Fuck._

Min carefully withdrew the box where he kept his opium supply. It seemed like a bit of an extreme choice for something like a fractured arm, but it would effectively silence the insistent voice of agony for Huang. He was quite familiar with such pain, after all. His eyes widened when he saw how low his stores of the drug were. There were only three black bars of opium remaining in the box, a sight that rather confused the sable. _How did I run out so quickly? I've only prescribed it to four people in the last month._ Then he remembered. _Ah, yes... I drank a few cups of opium tea this week. This gives me a perfect opportunity to go see Fēngbào._

Min took out a single bar and wrapped it in a sheet of papyrus, then fished under his desk where he stocked cheap wooden pipes in bulk for this purpose. He returned to Huang and handed him the two items. "Opium." The sable said when the pig opened his mouth to ask what it was. "Don't smoke too much of it in one go; it's not very hard to overdose. Also, make sure the flame doesn't directly touch it; keep it close to the opium, until the heat makes it bubble. Then you inhale."

Huang nodded. "Got it. Thanks for everything, Min. How much do I owe you?"

Min did some quick calculations in his head. "Sixty yuan. That's a damn good price, if I do say so myself."

"Well, I've definitely had worse healers charge me more." Huang responded, taking out a bag and quickly counting up the sum total. It took longer than it should have with one arm wrapped up. "Here you go. Thanks again."

After he left, the sable contemplated, staring into the flame of the candle that lit the room. He usually had the shutters closed to give his patients privacy, but since he had none at the moment, he blew out the candle and opened them. The daylight flooded into his shop but did nothing to chase away the dark memories. He sighed and collapsed into a chair, rubbing the bridge of his snout and dreading meeting with his past again.

They had often been called the Warlock Trio in the underground- Fēngbào, Min, and his little brother Hēi'àn. Fēngbào was quite famous in the streets as a brawler, who had the skill to be accepted into the Jade Palace but refused to be put in with those 'egotistical, arrogant nobles', as he often called them. Despite his history as a street fighter, he knew pretty much everything there was to know about demons- in fact, he taught Min most of the stuff he knew. Fēngbào was more into the whole 'Warlock Trio' thing because of the money it brought in.

When they split up, Fēngbào went and started one of the few legal opium farms, which shovelled in a huge amount of profit, enough for him to open a tavern on the farmstead. He usually only sold to healers- he was Min's supplier- but on rare occasions he would knowingly sell to some people who used it for recreational purposes. Min hadn't seen him since he left the Jade Palace twenty years ago, but he usually would send letters to his old friend whenever his stocks grew low, and have someone pick up the opium and deliver the payment. He was usually too busy with his work as a healer to be able to go to his farm.

And Hēi'àn... that was the darkest part of his memory. Min had begun training at the palace when he was fifteen years old, and five years later he received word from his parents that unexpectedly, they had another son. The young sable had been shocked by the news, of course, but never met his little brother until they sent Hēi'àn to train at the Jade Palace with him. Apparently they had told a great deal of stories to the child, and right off the bat he idolized his older brother. He wanted to be just like him in every way, and Min soon learned that, like himself, he had magical power within him.

Hēi'àn had been different from the two in the fact that he only ever wanted to help people. He had a taste for the dark side of magic, and would summon demons and take control of them. He became quite adept at it too- he did these rituals in the palace right under Oogway's nose and only got caught when Min had told the Grandmaster to prevent his little brother from doing anything else that could get him killed. How he wished that he hadn't done that... it might have changed everything that happened afterwards.

But now was not the time to dwell on the past. If Min didn't find a way to get the essence of Lamashtu out of Po and Tigress, then she would surely kill both of them slowly and painfully. The demoness was known for it, after all. Muttering a word of protection, he opened one of the false floorboards in the corner of his shop and pulled out an amulet of Pazuzu, another Mesopotamian demon who was rival to Lamashtu. Gathering his cloak around himself and double checking his pocket to make sure he was still carrying the vial, and left his abode and entered a world of harsh sunlight and azure skies. _I pray that Fēngbào has the answers I need. If not... then Po and Tigress are as good as dead._

 _..._

"You clashed with demons." Shifu said as soon as they reached the top of the stairs. He was standing with his back to them, as though he had been in that position the entire time. He turned around, allowing his gaze to sweep over each and every one of them.

"Yeah." Po said. "How'd you know about that?"

"The disturbance could be felt all throughout the valley, even up here. Were you able to identify them?"

"Min said they were Diao si gui." Tigress answered. "Hanged ghosts."

Shifu stroked his beard, deep in thought. "Interesting. Hanged ghosts usually can't leave the place where they died. It sounds like a ritual summoning."

"Yeah, that's what Min said it was. Did you know that he can use crazy magic?" Po asked.

Shifu nodded. "Yes. He and his brother were both magi. But that is not important right now. You fought someone else, I can tell."

"Uh huh. The other two servants of the Master we haven't seen yet. Tabula Rasa and Mèng. I've gotta tell you, they have some weird powers."

"So it would seem." Shifu turned to Tigress. "I am glad you are well again, Tigress. I truly feared that you would die. If not for Po, you surely would have."

"I know. Thank you for your concern, Master."

"Alright, you wanna hear about their powers?" Po asked. He was dying to tell Shifu about their strange and unorthodox abilities. Before the red panda could respond, Po already began. "Tabula Rasa can mess around with your fate if she tastes your blood, but she has to be paying attention or you can hit her. And she can use her own blood as a weapon. Min had a word for what she was... ah, what was it again?"

"Hemomancy." Tigress informed him.

"Yeah! That was it. Hemomancy. She's a wolf with red eyes, too, you can't miss her. And then there's Mèng... geez, he didn't really get into his powers, but it's unbelievable. Some kind of illusions or something, but he can make the whole world change. Tabula Rasa stopped him every time he started because she said that we had to live. Must mean that the kid's really dangerous. Can't think of any other reason he'd be with the Master. His eyes and mouth are stitched shut too. I wonder how he eats?"

"Indeed." Shifu said. "Were either of them the summoners of the Diao si gui?"

Po shrugged. "Min said they weren't, but they appeared right as soon as a giant worm came out of the ground and ate the two of them."

"Min may be as esoteric as Oogway sometimes, but his judgement is sound. This must mean that they have a summoner on their side." Shifu turned back to them. "We shall discuss this further in the Hall of Heroes. Come."

The six of them joined Master Shifu in front of the Pool of Sacred Tears, the usual debriefing area for them. It would have been just like any other mission if not for the tension that lurked in the air like creeping nightfall. Po noticed just how much darker the Hall of Heroes seemed, even though it was early afternoon. The herald's warning echoed in his ears again, but he shook it off.

"Now," the old red panda began. "As you all know, a group of madmen are fixated on the Valley of Peace. So far, we have seen five of them- perhaps a dark parody of the Furious Five. Besides that, they have the same mercenaries who fought for Kira Kozu on their side, and a man who summons demons. The leopard, Dubaku, was gathering the bodies and was determined to make sure they were undamaged. This raises a few disturbing questions; who else do they have on their side, and what did Dubaku need those bodies for."

"Isn't it obvious?" Po said. "They're making an undead army." The rest of the Five looked at him with expressions of exasperation.

"This is a serious matter, panda." Shifu said.

"I _am_ being serious." Po retorted. "These guys have strange magics under their control; they brought hanged ghosts to us, didn't they? Come on, is an army of zombies really that far-fetched?"

Shifu had nothing to say to that. "He does kinda have a point, Master." Crane said. "Even though it's really, _really_ unlikely."

"Regardless," the Grandmaster said. "There is also another troubling issue on this whole matter. Po, you said that their Master wanted an urn, and he knew that you had it."

Po nodded vigorously. "Oh, yeah. I thought he meant the Urn of Whispering Warriors, but I figured Zeng's had to repair it enough times as it is already."

"I don't think he was referring to that urn at all." Shifu said carefully. Po thought he saw a look of apprehension in his eyes- or maybe _fear?_ Naw. Old Shifu wasn't afraid of anything. "I may have an idea of who their Master is. I hoped that I was wrong... but the evidence suggests otherwise."

"What do you mean?" Tigress asked.

Shifu closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was silent for a while, before he opened them and slowly swept his gaze over each and every one of them. "How familiar are you all with the tale of Xiedu Dehua?"

"That general who died five hundred years ago?" Mantis said. "The one who pretty much made China?"

Shifu nodded grimly. "He is not dead. When I was only fourteen years old, Oogway recieved a most urgent plea for help from a remote town called Taiyang village. Within the place is a temple that was constructed to protect an ancient urn that contained the souls of Xiedu Dehua's army."

"This _really_ sounds like the Urn of Whispering Warriors." Po interrupted.

"It is nothing like that. Xiedu Dehua, though powerful and feared, was a bloodthirsty warlord. He showed no mercy to any who opposed him, and his army was expected to follow suit. A dark prophet trapped their souls in that urn and then gave it to a group of monks, who hid it away after the general was executed for all the war crimes he had committed. Oogway travelled to the town as fast as he could, and I... followed him.

"We arrived to discover that the entire village had been slaughtered, and the Thirteen Guardians who had devoted their lives had suffered a similar fate. He was there... Xiedu Dehua, returned from the dead to collect his army again. His gaze alone was more powerful than any paralysing technique that Kung Fu had spawned, and we were rendered immobile. He could have killed us then, but instead he gave us the urn without a fight and promised that he would return to get it back. He killed everyone in that village... for no reason at all."

"Whoa." Po said. "Gotta say, I wouldn't put it past this Master to do that."

"Which is exactly why we must ensure he does not do the same thing to the Valley of Peace." Shifu said. "We must evacuate everyone right away, before his mad five decide to kill any more people than they have already."

"Master Shifu, I don't think they'll be attacking right away." Tigress said.

"And why is that?"

"Apparently Po gave Tabula Rasa the names of Mei Ling and Great Master Viper."

" _What?_ " Crane and Viper yelled in unison.

"Aw, man, I completely forgot about that!" Po buried his face in his hands. "We have to go help them! You know what these people will do to them if they beat them in battle."

"Master Shifu, we have to help them!" Crane said. "If Xiedu Dehua really is behind all this, then they'll both die!"

"We will. But we must focus on the Valley first. For all we know, it could be a diversion to bring us away so they can kill as many of the people as they can while we are gone. The Jiang village would be the safest place for them now, and it is close enough that we can bring the entire population there with great haste. If they are as methodical as they have been so far, then that will put the Valley of Peace between them and the people. Then you can go and assist Mei Ling and Great Master Viper. Remember, they are more than capable of defending themselves. It will take a minimum of two days for the madmen to reach them anyways. We will have time, as long as you depart immediately. Now, go."

...

Yāoshén closed the Eye of Chiyou and opened his own two. The Diao si gui had served their purpose well, but they were nothing more than harbingers of the other horrors he could summon. He sat in complete darkness, in the middle of a circle drawn in blood. Though they were invisible in the black, hanzi of darkness, death, and rebirth were inscribed all over the floor and walls. He smirked. The gypsy had ridiculed him for his elaborate rituals and called him a fraud, but now she would surely see that he was much, much more powerful than he appeared.

Though Dubaku's ritual had been cut short, he had still managed to attach a spirit to the Dragon Warrior so they could track him. With Yāoshén's Eye of Chiyou, he could watch the panda's every move so that there were no surprises in store for them. The summoner was clearly doing far better than any of the lunatics had expected, and he would soon have to collect his payment. There was a flicker of memory in his mind of who he had been before, but he forced it down. Yāoshén realized that he had broken out in a cold sweat. He needed a hit.

"You know, I believe I may have misjudged you." The feminine voice came from the darkness in front of him. He saw the malicious, glowing red eyes and snorted. "Tabula Rasa. What do you want this time?"

"I want many things. More knowledge, more power, to bring about the end of that accursed 'religion'... nothing you can do, in short. However, the Master has asked me to deliver your paycheck, and to see what you have gathered since I left the Valley of Peace."

"They are evacuating the villagers into the nearby Jiang village. Dangerously close to us, if you ask me." Yāoshén informed her.

"How quaint." He didn't need to see her face to know she was smiling. "We can do that little plan we talked about earlier. I'll even let you borrow some of my playthings to make it happen. I'm sure Dubaku won't mind if we use some of his corpses for this. Besides, the more rotted they are, the scarier, yes?"

Yāoshén didn't answer that last question. "You were serious about that, were you? Shit, I didn't make any preparations. I guess I will have to perform my customary miracles and make it happen. Well, after you give me my money, that is."

There was a thud as a large sack hit the floor in front of him, jingling on impact with the bloody stone. A quick glance with the Eye of Chiyou told him that it was the correct amount. Tabula Rasa was turning away, having no trouble finding her way through the darkness. "You had best hurry, then. I was beginning to get bored with the playthings I have now. They might be dead if you take too long."

"Then your brilliant plan will be no more." Yāoshén retorted, his voice calm. Despite the she-wolf's beauty, she creeped him the hell out. Probably had the same effect on the other nutjobs he was working with. _How in the hell did I get myself into this?_ He decided not to dwell on it further. His addiction was sinking its fangs into his belly with no mercy, and it was now time for him to begin his courtship of oblivion through hypodermic communion.


	17. Haven of Fiends

It only took a few hours for Min to reach the farmstead by foot. Fēngbào's home had undergone some drastic expansions since he had last been here. The quaint, homely farmstead was now a ostentatious mansion designed to accommodate large amounts of guests. His old friend had even embellished most of the walls and doors with graven images of dragons and demons, many of which were not of Chinese origin. He shuddered as he passed a mural depicting Lamashtu and Pazuzu locked in the throes of combat. He touched the amulet for protection and forced his breathing to return to normal.

The farmstead wasn't the only thing that Fēngbào had upgraded. To the left and right of the mansion sprawled endless fields of opium poppies, with many farmhands scratching the almost mature bulbs to collect the poisonous rapture that flowed out. The massive double doors were guarded by two fearsome statues of the guardians of the Underworld, Niútóu and Mamien, the legendary horse and ox-headed warriors who were usually the first beings the newly dead encountered after their demise. Their weapons, a long trident and wolf's teeth club, were crossed above the doorframe.

"Damn, Fēngbào" Min murmured. "You've been doing a lot since we parted ways."

He could hear the raucous sounds of many people conversing just beyond the doors, where the bar and lounge were located. Besides the statues, however, there were no guards out here. Min slowly pushed open one of the double doors, surprised at how little resistance there was to it. He stepped out of the hot sun and into the cool, smoke-filled air of the tavern.

There were dozens of patrons milling about, drinking baijiu or wine, or enjoying the blissful euphoria of Fēngbào's opium trade. There were men and women of all different species; rabbits, pigs, goats, snow leopards, even a couple of tigers. The sweet smell of opium smoke fought for dominance against the several burning incense sticks. The noise was much louder in here; shouts of joy and anger, laughter, catcalls, a whirling vortex of sound and life. Blissfully unaware of the dark evil that was growing, preparing to sink its hungry fangs into the world and not let go until all of its lifeblood was consumed.

Min waded through the chaos without speaking to any of the people, though a few tried sharing words with him. The reason for him being here was far too important to waste time with small talk. With all these drastic changes to Fēngbào's farmstead, he had next to no knowledge of where to find him. He glided among the patrons, looking left and right for any sign of his old friend. A huge, fat pig was smoking a bowl of opium at one of the tables, sitting alone. The pipe was a beautiful; forged of jade and intricately carved with patterns of leaves, bamboo, and swirling tides. The hanzi of life was embossed in gold on the front of the bowl. It must have cost a fortune.

The pig set the pipe down on the table and left to speak with a female snow leopard who had been staring at him from across the room. There were a lot of the felines here today, Min observed as he walked over to the table the pig had been sitting at before. With a quick glance at its owner, who was still deep in conversation, he took the pipe, flicked out the still-burning opium, and pocketed it. He walked away casually, whistling as nonchalantly as possible, pleased with his new pipe. He had plenty of them, of course, but none like this. It was going to be his own personal pipe. As he walked away, he heard the pig yell in outrage. "Hey! Who stole my pipe?"

Min picked up his pace, but not enough so as to appear in a hurry. _Where the hell is Fēngbào?_ He thought to himself as he pushed through the crowds. He probably wouldn't be down in the lounge, Min figured, so he would probably have to find someone who worked here and ask them. He prayed that he wasn't away on some business trip, or something. Lamashtu would likely kill his friends before he ever got back. Fortunately, it didn't take long for him to find someone.

Min eventually came across another door, made of rice paper and bamboo in the traditional Chinese fashion. There was another female snow leopard leaning against the wall next to it, looking for all the world like she wasn't paying attention. But Min knew her; she was on high alert, ready to snap out her flying guillotine at the slightest disturbance. She was dressed all in black, with a hood that had been lowered and a mask that was pulled down around her neck. The chain of her legendary flying guillotine was wrapped around her chest, the flattened dome resting on her back. Her eyes widened when she saw the sable standing there.

"Min?" she gasped. "Is that you?"

"Hello, Shou Ni." Min said casually. "Still working for Fēngbào, I see. Can I speak with him, please? The entire world may explode if I don't."

"Yes, yes, of course" Shou Ni said. "Why haven't you visited in the past twenty years?"

"Oh, you know." Min shrugged dismissively. "The Valley of Peace isn't as peaceful as its name would suggest. I have to patch up pretty much everyone whenever they get a papercut. It's very busy, you see."

"Yeah." she nodded. "I see. I'll take you to Fēngbào. How have you been, Min? And what's this about the world exploding "

"Maybe a bit of an exaggeration, that." the sable said as she pushed open the door and led him through. "More like a slow and incredibly painful demise for everything on this world that breathes oxygen. I've been well, thank you. And you? Still doing wetwork for Fēngbào?"

"A little, but it's much more than that now." Shou Ni said with a faint smile. Min was about to inquire about that, but he thought better of it. If he got too nosey, she might be inclined to use her flying guillotine on him, and he had seen her decapitate many a troublesome foe with it. She led him down a long hallway illuminated with lanterns of the Gothic fashion, the walls adorned with murals and paintings, much like the outside, of demons. Fēngbào always had a thing for mixing many different cultural architectures into one place.

"Must have cost a fortune." He observed, gesturing to the walls.

"Yes." Shou Ni said. "Fortunately, we never have financial problems between his opium farm, tavern, and my... trade. Currency isn't an issue."

"I see. Are contract killings still as profitable as they were back in the day?"

She nodded. "The prices sometimes rise and fall with the worth of the currency, but overall it's the same. In here."

They stopped at the end of a hallway, before another door made out of oak stood before them, with a gargoyle shaped knocker glowering at them with a malice unfitting for a carving of stone. Shou Ni lifted the knocker and rapped on the door several times. A moment later, it swung open on well-oiled hinges and his old friend stood there, not looking much different from the last time they'd seen each other twenty years ago.

Fēngbào was a dhole, his red fur well groomed and his eyes a deep brown. He wore black robes, similar to the ones Min now wore, but much more spacious and sporting a deep cowl, which was thrown back over his shoulders. It looked like it should be worn by a monk or a crazed cultist. At his hip he wore a belt with his ritual athame on his right thigh and his favourite gladius on his left. He wasn't much taller than Min.

"Min?" His eyes widened. "It _is_ you! Holy shit, you got ugly. Come in, come in. You came at a perfect time; tea's almost ready." He grabbed Min by the shoulder and pulled him inside his office. Shou Ni came in behind them and shut the door behind her.

Fēngbào's office was, as Min was expecting, an odd mishmash of different cultures that somehow seemed to fit into each other. On the sable's right, against the wall, was a shelf with stone tablets, mystic amulets, Vodun fetishes, an Egyptian death mask, and other artifacts of power. To his left was a dresser with an array of skulls of demons they had slain together in the past. Min had a few such trophies in his own room back at his shop.

"It's good to see you again, Fēngbào. Still looking like something a drunken simpleton made from dried mud, I see."

"You, good sir, can rightly go fuck yourself." the dhole said as he sat on a chair behind a desk with a tarot deck, a shard of a Sumerian tablet, and an ornate repeater crossbow set on top of it. "How have you been? Still being the good healer of the Valley?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I would ask how you were doing, but I could tell the moment I looked at your establishment that you're very well indeed." Min said.

Shou Ni walked over to Fēngbào and kissed him on the cheek, before pulling up another chair and sitting down beside him. Min was shocked at such an affectionate gesture, until he remembered that Shou Ni always said 'we' when they had been talking on the way here. It all clicked in his head.

"You two are married?" he gasped. They both nodded as one, the same faint smile appearing on Shou Ni's lips. "Congratulations. Why the hell wasn't I invited to your wedding?"

"We sent a messenger five years ago when it happened." Shou Ni said. "Did he not deliver the invitation? I'll have to have a word with him."

"That was real?" Min asked. He had received it, but he hadn't believed it when he had gotten it. He had assumed that it was another one of Fēngbào's infamous practical jokes. It also didn't say who he had been getting married to either, which had further increased his suspicions. "Shit. I'm sorry, guys. I found it hard to believe that Fēngbào was getting married to anyone."

"So did I." Fēngbào nodded in agreement.

"I know this is probably nothing, but why are there so many snow leopardesses in here? Don't tell me you're running a brothel now."

"No, of course not. They're the Ladies of the Shade. You might have heard about this, but something has been methodically wiping out every bandit or other criminal in a massive area. Their current leader, Song, had asked if she could use my mansion as a sort of hideout so she could keep her people safe. In return, they prevent the customers from getting too rowdy when the threat of Shou Ni's flying guillotine won't deter them. They've been here for about a month or so."

"You aren't nervous about having a notorious order of thieves staying in your house, which you smartly decorated with the most expensive shit you could find?"

"Song has sort of turned the Ladies of the Shade away from a life of crime. Besides, if they stole anything, they knew they'd be kicked out and at the mercy of whatever made them go into hiding in the first place."

Min had been so caught up with the reunion that he almost forgot what he came here for. He pulled up a chair and sat down facing the dhole. "Look, Fēngbào, we are in a whole world of trouble right now. I believe I know who is killing off the criminals, and they aren't just targeting the guilty. Innocents, too. But that's not what I came here for."

"Then why are you here?"

"Lamashtu." Min said, and both Fēngbào and Shou Ni gasped.

"What do you mean?" the dhole demanded. "Lamashtu is dead, gone, buried in the sands of history. There's no way she could-"

"That was just an assumption we made when we intercepted that occult caravan twenty five years ago. Remember? We only found a clay tablet depicting Lamashtu, and three amulets of Pazuzu. You, me and Hēi'àn all took one of the amulets, and my crazy fucking brother tried to use the tablet to summon her. Nothing happened, save for the fact the tablet blew the fuck up and stunk up the entire palace for a week."

"You told me about all this." Fēngbào said. "What makes you think she's alive and thriving?"

Min pulled out the bone vial that had contained her essence. "Here. Sniff this." He handed it to the dhole and he obliged, recoiling the instant he pressed his nose to the opening. "It can't be." He said. "It's the same demonic essence we found on the clay tablet all those years ago. It... she... What the fuck?"

"Pretty much the same reaction I had." Min said. "The Dragon Warrior managed to get himself crucified by the same people who are killing all the criminals. They kept healing him with water from this bone vial. He said that there was an entire well of it somewhere up in the mountains. He used the same Water to heal Master Tigress. You remember her? Even though she came to the palace right before I left. They both have her essence swimming in their veins. Do you have any idea how Lamashtu wound up in China?"

"No," Fēngbào admitted. "it sounds to me like someone performed a binding ritual on her- trapping an evil spirit into an object, or in this case, water in a well, so that she couldn't wreak havoc on the world. Whoever did this must be unfathomably powerful to be able to defeat a goddess of evil. And they can't be a god, either, or else they would have killed Lamashtu. Only a god can kill another, after all. A simple exorcism won't do with removing her essence; she's far too powerful."

"Then how to we get her out of Po and Tigress?"

"I'm not sure. I've never had to fight a true god in all my years of battling the preternatural. This... this is new to me."

Min's heart clouded with despair. "You have to know! Or else they will die."

"I know. I think I might know someone who could help, but it's kind of a long shot..."

"Who?"

Fēngbào looked him directly in the eye. The intensity of his gaze seemed to bore into the sable's very soul. "Your brother. Hēi'àn. He saw something dark, when he tried summoning her. Don't you see, Min? Why his ritual didn't work? Lamashtu wasn't buried in Mesopotamia at all. The reason why he couldn't bring her here... was because she was in China all along."

He let the words hang in the air, like a condemned criminal at the gallows. Fēngbào reached under his desk and pulled out two long opium pipes, carved simply of wood unlike the masterpiece Min had recently purloined. He figured it was probably best to not show his old friend the pipe he had just stolen from one of his customers. He pulled out a bar of opium, more recently dried than the stuff he sold to Min, and broke off a couple of small pieces.

"You said that you knew who may be responsible for all the killings, recently. Who is it?" Fēngbào murmured after he packed the two bowls. He took two sticks of burning incense out of a firepot next to his desk and handed Min one of them, as well as a pipe.

"Some kind of cult, or something." the sable said, taking the two items and holding the burning stick over the solid opium. "I saw two of them- a child named Mèng and a she-wolf named Tabula Rasa. They-"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold the fuck on." Fēngbào said in alarm, almost dropping his pipe. "Tabula Rasa. _The_ Tabula Rasa?"

The healer frowned. "Yes. You know her?"

"By reputation only." His voice dropped to a whisper, as though the gypsy would appear if they spoke her name too loudly. "She is... death, to put it lightly. Tabula Rasa is a witch, an unbelievably powerful one, who is devoted to wiping Christianity off the face of the earth. She has tortured, murdered, and raped a bloody trail all across Italy, France, England, and who knows what other places. They call her all different sorts of names- the Maiden of Plagues, the Mask of the Red Death, the Mistress of Agony... When she plans on killing a lot of people, she dresses in all red, because her favourite method of mass murder is to use a gruesome blood plague. Her charm and seductive prowess is capable of luring in anyone- man or woman- into her clutches, where she'll torture them endlessly until they die or she gets bored of them."

"How many people has she killed?" Min asked.

Fēngbào looked very disturbed, even more so than when he had learned about Lamashtu's presence in the land. "I've received many reports, but... it's estimated that her kill count is between two and five million."

"Are you serious?" Min gasped. "She definitely seemed powerful when we fought, but not to that extent. However, she does appear to be completely immune to magic."

"You fought her? And _lived?_ "

Min nodded. "Yes. Earlier today, in fact. She wasn't dressed in all red though, which suggests that she wasn't really out for the kill."

"You are damned lucky, then." he said. "Tabula Rasa wouldn't have just killed you. She would have brought you somewhere private and made you wish she had."

"I figured as much." The opium was beginning to bubble in the bowl. Min put the incense stick back in the firepot and took a long draw on the pipe, savouring the sweet smoke that filled his lungs. For a moment, both men were silent as the euphoria embraced them. Shou Ni looked on silently, her eyes half-lidded. Min exhaled the smoke through his nostrils.

"Any word from Hēi'àn?" Min asked, his thoughts already turning foggy from the drug. He wanted to take his mind off the Mistress of Agony and Lamashtu for a while.

Fēngbào nodded gravely. "Yes. We still maintain regular contact via letter, like you and me. He has become quite the... let's say... opium enthusiast. He buys a shitload from me every couple of weeks. By delivery, of course, but he still hasn't gotten over his addiction ever since he was kicked out of the Jade Palace. In fact, it's gotten worse."

Min sighed, rubbing his temples. "This was why I had to tell Oogway about all of this. If only you and I had been more subtle with the drugs. If he hadn't seen me and you injecting opium, back before the banned needles, he never would have thought to do them."

"Hēi'àn idolized you, Min." Fēngbào said with understanding in his eyes. "He always wanted to impress you, to be just like you."

"I'm not exactly a good role model." the sable said. "You and Shou Ni were far better siblings to him than I ever was. He should have looked up to _you,_ not me. I just... wanted him to be a better person than I ever was. I couldn't let Hēi'àn continue summoning incredibly powerful demons that would kill him if he was unable subjugate them. He always thought that no matter what, there was always another way that didn't involve killing. I couldn't take the good out of him."

"The world will do that regardless." Fēngbào said. "You couldn't protect him forever, no matter how hard you tried. Hēi'àn was a powerful summoner, still is, despite the constant attacks."

"Constant attacks?"

Fēngbào nodded. "Over the past couple of weeks, my farmstead has been attacked by Diao si gui. Four of them, to be specific. The last time I sent a... _shipment..._ to Hēi'àn, he wrote me back a letter asking me if you had been sending hanged ghosts to attack him. I told him that it was very unlikely."

"I was just attacked this morning by four Diao si gui, right after Tabula Rasa escaped. I knew right off the bat that they weren't summoned by the witch. It was a completely different aura on them. If you and Hēi'àn are also being targeted... then who the hell is summoning them?"

"I've come up with a few theories." Fēngbào tented his fingers. "Have you ever heard of a mystic contract killer known as Yāoshén?"

"' _Demon God_ '" Min whispered. "Sounds like a friendly guy. No, I haven't."

"He's only surfaced sometime in the past eight years. In the first month since his appearance, he's already worked up quite a bad reputation for violent killing sprees, piling up the dead whether they were his targets or not. I believe, given the frequency of the attacks, that Yāoshén may be the summoner. He is known for being a very efficient summoner; his creations can come back very quickly. Plus, mages are getting quite rare in China, so we at least have a small list of people to pore through."

"You think he could be one of the warlocks the three of us defeated back in the day? It would explain why he was targeting the three of us."

"There is nothing, absolutely _nothing_ that Yāoshén won't do for money. One of the legends surrounding him says that he once killed an entire family to secure an inheritance for a greedy relative. Everyone, including the babies. Another one says that he wiped out an entire village because the people were too poor to pay taxes to their overlord."

"So this Yāoshén is another mass murderer, huh?" Min said. "Figured as much, since he's working with Tabula Rasa."

"That's all I know about him." Fēngbào stood up and took another long pull on his pipe, blowing out a massive cloud of milky smoke. "He's very mysterious, almost like a-"

Someone knocked on the door behind Min, urgently. The sable turned his head, the pipe still at the corner of his mouth, wisps of smoke gently rising off the bowl. Shou Ni was already at the door, grabbing the handle and pulling it open. A young female snow leopard walked into the room, looking much calmer than her knocking would have suggested.

"Song." Fēngbào nodded in greeting. "What's the matter?"

"There's a pig downstairs causing trouble and threatening violence. He says that someone stole his opium pipe. What do you want us to do with him?"

"Maybe he's delusional." Min suggested, feeling the weight of the pipe he stole in his pocket.

"Nobody brings anger and destruction into my domain." Fēngbào growled, his eyes darkening. "Throw him out. If he keeps trying to cause problems, break his legs and then throw him out."

Song bowed her head and walked back out the door. "As you wish."

Min felt a slight stab of guilt at the fact that she was most definitely referring to the pig he had stolen his pipe from. But he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to get kicked out of his friend's establishment before he had finished what he came here to do.

"Fēngbào," Min said. "We're getting off topic. Lamashtu. How can my brother help me get her out of my friends?"

"I don't know. It's kind of a shot in the dark, but I feel that if anyone can figure out why she's here, it will be him. However... if you show up at Hēi'àn's house unexpectedly, he won't be inclined to speak with you, considering he suspects that you are the one who's been sending the Diao si gui our way. He buys large quantities of opium from me quite regularly. I will write you a letter telling you when he needs more, and then I will send you to be the delivery boy so you can talk to him. In fact, it will most likely be tomorrow or the next day when I will get the letter. He doesn't leave his house much anymore, you see."

"That's not a guaranteed appointment, Fēngbào." Min said. "Lamashtu could kill them any time she wants. She has us on a very tight schedule."

"I know." his old friend nodded. "But Hēi'àn will likely attack you on sight if you come without his delivery. Just be patient, Min. A fiend like him will probably write me sooner rather than later."

"I might be too busy in a day or two. With Tabula Rasa and her buddies putting a mark on the valley, Yāoshén and his demons, not to mention the goddess of evil herself, something could pop up in that timeframe."

"Don't worry." Fēngbào soothed. "If things get too hot down in the Valley of Peace, then Shou Ni and I will be glad to help. I'm also pretty sure that the Ladies of the Shade would want to get out of hiding as soon as possible; they will join too if I asked them. If you require our assistance, then you can rely on us to provide support for the warriors of the Jade Palace."


	18. River of Souls

Yāoshén pushed the prisoner in front of him as he led the dishevelled goat through the tunnel. This close to the surface, the stench of rotting corpses, blood, and mustiness was fortunately being left behind. Even his mask, carved to look like the snarling face of a demon, couldn't protect him from such odours. How Tabula Rasa and the others could bear it was beyond him. The stale air was beginning to be chased away, pursued down the tunnel by the fresh air.

The goat showed signs of severe torture at the hands of the witch; gaping red furrows, caused by her claws or a cat' o nine tails, cut through his filthy hair on his face and bare chest. His arms were tied behind his back, a rock covered in sacred symbols wrapped in the knots of rope. Several other such stones had been affixed to his body in folds of gauze, a necessity for Yāoshén to ensure he didn't die of blood loss before the ritual was finished.

"Thank you for freeing me." the goat croaked, looking over his shoulder into the summoner's eyes. His voice was raspy from dehydration and screaming for hours on end under the gypsy's attentions. "I'll forever be in your debt."

Yāoshén smiled humorlessly beneath his nightmarish mask, and shoved him forward, making the prisoner fall to his knees. "Sure. Keep moving." The goat complied, struggling to his feet again, and carried himself forward. He was unsteady on his feet; after all, the only times he'd moved in the tunnels were when the gypsy witch switched torture devices. _Damn you, Tabula Rasa. Getting bored of your 'playthings' already?_

The wind picked up, making Yāoshén's wine-red robes flow in the wind, partially restricted by the bone breastplate he wore over them. He heard his charge's feet splash through water, and that told him that they'd already reached the riverside. The height of the water had already risen a couple of feet. He needed to finish this as quickly as possible; fortunately this was the last one.

"Good to see you're as late as always, summoner." The goat yelped and leaped back in terror, crashing into Yāoshén, who pushed him back. Tabula Rasa was sitting on a rock that the water was lapping at the base of. Her white fur was soaking wet, and her multicoloured clothing clung to her slender frame, equally drenched. He awkwardly lowered his eyes since it gave him a much clearer view of her body than he was comfortable with. "The water level is rising quicker than I thought it was. It's already poisoned, too."

"It's working fast. We haven't much time." Yāoshén said. "At least this is the last Shui Gui. They'll help take care of the villagers."

"What?" the unfortunate soul balked. Or perhaps fortunate- after all, Tabula Rasa wasn't going to be sinking her claws and fangs into him anymore. With a mighty thrust, Yāoshén shoved the goat face-first into the rising river. The water was only a few feet deep, but with the rocks weighing him down, and his hands tied behind his back, there was no possible way he could stand up. The summoner went and sat next to Tabula Rasa on the rock to watch the goat's struggles; the gypsy with a slowly spreading smile as the bubbles came more infrequently, Yāoshén with cold indifference.

By the time the bubbles stopped, the water level had risen to the top of the rock they were sitting on. "It is done." Yāoshén said. He stood as the water began to lap at the base of his wine-red robes, threatening to suck him into the river. "We should go now. The Master is eager to hear of our success."

"Hm, I don't know. It seems like it would be more fun to just watch the show, yes? The Master already knows what we've done. Even without his worms to tell him, he knows. You've have to be blind, or just a plain idiot, to not notice a river stop flowing."

"Stay here, then. Let the river embrace you and drag you down into the dark oblivion. When the Furious Five reach the Jiang village, there will be no dry area left to sit and watch."

Tabula Rasa rolled her eyes and stood. "You are no fun, you know that, summoner? Why are you even with us, anywho? Besides the fact that we dangle a few spare coins in front of your face, that is."

Yāoshén had begun walking back in the direction of the hideout. He didn't turn back to look at her, but he felt pain stab his heart. Pain at what who he had used to be, and how far he had fallen from grace. At least it would be over soon. "For retribution, gypsy. To make everyone who has wronged me suffer."

"Ah, you fancy yourself a soldier of the righteous now, do you, Yāoshén?" Tabula Rasa fell into step beside him. "Tell me how evil those four masters you turned into Diao si gui were. Or what about these Shui gui? Oh, and don't forget those E gui you're making right now. I'm sure that was retribution, too."

"Shut. Up. I will not take morality lessons from the Mistress of Agony."

The she-wolf shrugged. "Your loss. Has the Master explained to you when we will be attacking?"

Yāoshén nodded. "Tomorrow, I will send the Eye of Chiyou to scout out the Lee Da academy. Fortunately, I am quite familiar with its whereabouts. You will be able to reach it in under a few days, provided you leave soon."

"I was planning on it."

"Good. The Master wishes me to send some of my more powerful demons to assist you and that child you often hang around with. The same goes for the Puppet Master and Shi Renzu. Our work here," he gestured back in the direction they had come from "will serve as an effective distraction for our adversaries. There are no safe places for the inhabitants of the valley, not anymore.

"Of course there isn't." Tabula Rasa rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I came up with that plan?"

"Because you enjoy playing with dead things far too much to be healthy."

"I see you haven't had much conversation with Dubaku, then."

Yāoshén sighed. "Listen to me. These two targets we are going for are very dangerous indeed. Both are skilled warriors, or so I've heard. You must exercise extreme caution, or they will kill you. Our cannon fodder- ahem, _mercenaries_ can only do so much to keep any other adversaries occupied. You may have to be called upon to use some of your more powerful magic."

"Good." Tabula Rasa smiled, and this time he could tell it was genuine. "I was hoping for it."

...

The twisted tree trunks obscured the view to the Jiang village, but Tigress knew precisely how much further it was to their destination. Behind her, the whole of the Valley of Peace was gathered, with Monkey, Viper, and Mantis watching the sides and Crane flying overhead to make sure no one fell behind. It was fortuitous for them that the road they were travelling through was wide enough that the line-up of villagers wasn't so long that it would disperse their numbers over a long distance.

Behind her, Po was speaking with his father, their voices faintly reaching her ears over the chaos of the crowd. Tigress was still confused at Min's words concerning the demoness. If the 'Water' was so evil, then how did it save her life, and Po's as well? And how could such a powerful demon be trapped in water? There were a whole bunch of questions that she intended to ask Min when she returned to the Valley. For now, there was something more important at stake.

The weather was still warm and sunny, although beneath the shade of the forest it was cool. There were few sounds to be heard amidst the endless green besides the noise of the townspeople. Low-hanging branches acted as a bulwark against the fury of the sun, the verdant plantlife drinking in its golden rays with gusto. Despite the cheerful weather, anyone could sense that something was terribly wrong, whether or not they were attuned to such energies.

Indeed, there was a chill in the air despite the sun shining overhead. Tigress couldn't help but feel like something bad was about to happen, so she had all of her senses on high alert but couldn't detect anything unusual. It was, for now, peaceful, it seemed. She couldn't help but imagine the Puppet Master standing at the edge of the roadside, his black, soulless eyes staring at her with dark intent, imagining her living body turned into one of wood and memory.

Tigress shuddered when she remembered his army, a gallery of the dead. She still couldn't figure out how the Puppet Master was able to control so many puppets, and so effectively to boot. These thoughts made her turn her head to the left and the right, suddenly apprehensive about it being peaceful. "Hey, Tigress." Po's voice came from behind her. He had broken off his conversation with his dad and was hurrying up to her to walk beside the feline.

"Yes?"

"So, you know how after we finish evacuating the villagers, we're going to lend assistance to Mei Ling and Great Master Viper?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, so basically, have we made a plan as to whether we're splitting up to help them, or are we going as one? Because that second one seems like it take a bit too much time, considering they're both in complete opposite directions."

Tigress hadn't thought about that yet. "Maybe we should split up in teams of three, or else we might be too late by the time we reach the other."

"Man, I still can't believe I gave that crazy wolf their names... stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"You're right," Tigress agreed, flashing a quick glance at him. "It was."

"Yeah." Po rubbed his forehead. "They might even be on their way there now. I hope we can get there in time. Jiang village isn't too far now, is it?"

Tigress shook her head. "We should be there in about ten minutes, if everything goes smoothly. To be honest with you, I was half-expecting an amb..." She trailed off, stopping suddenly and staring dead ahead. Po followed her gaze and saw what she beheld; a group of people were trudging tiredly along towards them. Their clothes were drenched and torn, and they looked as though they had to fight a war just to get this far. When they saw the massive crowd coming towards them, with the Dragon Warrior and Master Tigress at the front, they struggled to pick up their pace. When they got close, Tigress realized that most of them were injured in some way or another.

"Come on," she said, and then ran over to help them, with Po close behind her. An elderly pig with a cane- Tigress assumed he was the leader- raised a hand but almost stumbled from the effort. She caught him before he fell and steadied him until he was stable enough. "Thank you." He croaked. "Please, you must help us! There are still more of us back there..."

"What happened?" Tigress asked. The old man coughed and pointed back in the direction he had come from. "Our home... the river flooded so quickly, we had no warning... it took only a few hours." Tigress met Po's eyes and saw her own grim despair reflected in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how this happened?"

"No... there was nothing wrong, the river levels were normal just this morning. The water level rose, and quickly flooded the village. But that's not the worst part." The old man fell to his knees, coughing up water. "There... there were... water ghosts. They dragged many of us underwater and drowned them. The others can't swim out of the town, or else the Shui Gui will get them."

"Water ghosts?" Po said. Tigress looked up at the panda and saw him staring at her. "Hey Ti, you think this Master guy might be behind this?" The feline was silent for a minute as she thought about it. If the old man's story was correct, then it was a good chance that he was responsible for this. There was no way the village that they were escorting the people of the valley to would have flooded by coincidence. But how would they have known...? And better yet, how would they have gotten the river to flood in such a short time?

"Po, go get the others. We'll get your people back safely," she added gently to the old man. "Don't worry. Just wait here."

"Thank you, miss." The old man wheezed. "Please, save my people before... the water ghosts claim them."

After a minute, Po and the rest of the five were assembled before her. "Po's already filled us in." Viper said when they arrived. "What should we do to help?"

"Viper, you, Mantis and Monkey will stay behind and protect the villagers." Tigress explained "I wouldn't be surprised if this was a diversion to separate us from them. Crane, fly ahead and scout out the village and see if anyone is trapped on the rooftops. Po and I will catch up."

"Got it." Crane nodded and took off into the azure sky. Within a moment he was little more than a dark speck on the placid blue tapestry. "Let's go." she said curtly to the panda, and took off running down the road on all fours. Every so often, she would quickly look to the left and right for any sign of lurking silhouettes hidden amongst the trees and bamboo stalks, but there was nothing. If the Master and his lackeys were behind this, they hadn't stayed behind to watch. But that didn't explain the uneasy feeling that she was being watched.

After a few minutes, Tigress felt the ground begin to gently slope upwards. When they crested the hill, the Jiang village would be in clear visibility, where they could take measure of how much damage had been caused by the flood. She hoped that the people who were still trapped in the village had at least gotten to high ground before the Shui Gui pulled them beneath the surface. If there even were Shui Gui, that is- although she wouldn't be surprised if there actually were.

When she reached the top of the hill, the sun shone directly in her eyes, making her wince and raise one hand to block out the rays. When she did so, she faltered in shock at the carnage that had replaced the peaceful Jiang village. Harsh panting and clumsy footsteps behind her announced that Po had caught up. "Po... look at this."

"One second." His hands were on his knees and he was gasping for breath. "Why does running... have to be so tiring? Like really?"

"Po. Look."

The panda raised his head and took in the scene below him. "Whoa..."

The former cobblestone roads were now rivers of their own, muddy water pouring between houses of bamboo and clay. Rubble from the less stable dwellings that had met their end at the ruthless grasp of the river drifted through the water like corpses. They could see Crane carrying a child in his talons, flying towards higher ground. When he caught sight of Po and Tigress standing there he changed direction and glided through the air towards them. He gently set the bunny down before landing next to them.

"Almost everyone who hasn't escaped the village are trapped in their houses," Crane said, out of breath. "I had to get him-" he jerked his head at the bunny beside him "-to safety before I could start trying to get into the houses and save the others."

"At least there are survivors." Tigress said, still gazing at the wreckage of the town. She still had the unsettling feeling that they were being watched by someone. Leaving the child here alone while they searched the houses for survivors would leave him open to be taken by the enemy she was sure was nearby. "Crane," she said. "Take him to the others and fly back here. You can return faster than any of us."

"Wait!" the bunny squeaked. "My mommy's trapped in the house. She was too big to crawl out the window with me." He pointed at one of the houses at the outskirts. The water- which was still quickly rising- was beginning to strip away its outer walls. They didn't have much time to get in there. "Po, search the other houses. I'll save his mother."

Po nodded, looking through the rushing river for the easiest way he could get among the buildings. The Jiang village wasn't like the Valley of Peace in the fact that the dwellings were much farther apart from each other than the close-knit buildings of their home. "Alright. No problem, Tigress."

"Good. Be careful, Po." Tigress said, then leaped towards a tree that was sticking halfway out of the water between her and her quarry. She vaulted off of one sturdy branch and hit the wall, digging her claws into the mud wall, flakes of it coming off between her fingers. For a moment, she almost lost her grip and fell into the roaring water below, but quickly recovering her balance, acutely recalling the old man's stories of the water ghosts. The structural integrity of the second floor wall was clearly not much to speak of, so she leaned back, her claws still embedded in the mud, and kicked the crumbling surface.

The wall crumbled before her blow, shattering into smaller pieces which clattered onto a floor made of bamboo. Tigress was carried with it and landed in a crouch in the middle of the room. In a corner sat a female rabbit startled by the sudden appearance of the feline. Tigress started towards her, but after a few steps she heard the floor creak perilously beneath her feet. _The entire structure's starting to give way,_ she realized. She dove towards the rabbit and grabbed her with one arm just as the entire floor collapsed under them.

Tigress unsheathed the claws one her one hand and buried them into the wall right before she plunged into the water, her tail-tip brushing the surface of the water. "I'm going to get you out of here," she said to the rabbit through clenched teeth, fighting to maintain her grip on the wall, which she could feel slowly being pieced apart by the river. She had to get out, and fast. "You're Master Tigress of the Jade Palace, aren't you? Thank you for saving me!"

Right after the rabbit who was clutching onto her for dear life said that, Tigress felt a hand grab the tip of her tail and yank on it, hard. Her claws dragged down the wall, leaving deep gouges in the dissipating mud. She dug the claws on her feet into the wall to help stabilize her, but the hand on her tail was insistent. Tigress looked down at the water. Through the fog of the murky, swirling mire, she could make out a goat's face staring at her expressionlessly from beneath the waves. At first she thought it was a drowning man, and she wondered why he was trying to pull her under. Then she saw his eyes- they were all white, with no pupils or iris, and then she realized what it was. _Shui gui._

"Dammit," she snarled, struggling to free herself from the water ghost's grip, but its strength bordered on preternatural. If she could get her tail out of the water, the Shui Gui wouldn't be able to break past the surface. She felt the wall crumbling beneath her claws, and this kicked her into a frenzy to escape. She forced herself further up the wall with every ounce of strength she had in her body, and felt the water ghost release her tail as she pulled it above the surface and climbed to the top of the ruined wall.

Tigress crouched and then leaped for the tree she had used to get over here in the first place, the rabbit still in her arms. As she did this, the rest of the building collapsed and was devoured by the river, making her stumble in midair. For a moment she feared she wasn't going to have jumped far enough and splash down into the river. But then she reached out with her free hand and grabbed the branch, pulling herself up to safety. She remained there for a moment to catch her breath. When she looked over her shoulder, she wasn't surprised to see that the house was gone, engorged by the waves. With another jump, she landed on the ground where they had begun. The river had almost reached the area; soon there wouldn't be any dry ground left around the Jiang village. _How is the river rising so fast? This should be impossible..._

Excruciating pain suddenly stabbed into her body at every angle, a howling symphony of twisting organs and the screaming dead. A low, throaty chuckle could be heard- not with her ears, but whispering into her mind. _What an amusing little mortal,_ the vaguely feminine voice said, _writhing in vain, like a worm on a hook._ It felt like someone was squeezing her brain with both hands, trying to get every drop of life from it. She became completely unaware of the world around her, touch, vision, scent, and hearing.

Then, as quickly as the sensation had come, it suddenly vanished. Tigress was on her hands and knees, gasping for breath with the taste of blood on her tongue. _What the hell was that?_ She thought, and then realized that the rabbit she had rescued was frantically shaking her shoulder, saying her name again and again. Tigress shook her head. "I'm... I'm alright." she got out, then pointed down the road. "Your son is down that way, with the others. Just go."

The rabbit watched her rise shakily to her feet for a second and then nodded. "Okay. Thank you again."

All the energy that the Water had apparently given Tigress had burned in the instant of the strange attack, and now she felt completely drained. The sound of wings beating made her look up to see Crane flying down towards her. Before he landed, she felt the flooding water lap at her heels, and she stepped forward, wary of any Shui Gui trying to grab her. "Tigress? What happened to you?"

"Nothing. Crane, the water level is rising far too quickly for us to be able to save everyone before the town is completely submerged. Po is out there in the village. Do you think you and him could take over while I try to find the source of this flood? I think I know where to look."

Crane nodded. "Yeah, I can do that. The population of this town's really low, and there was probably about half of them in that group."

"Alright, then go quickly. There isn't any time to waste."

After he flew for the village, Tigress decided to make her way to the river. There was still a dry- albeit narrow path that would take her right there. She had to be quick. Getting down on all fours again, she sprinted down the narrow sandy path that winded through twisted trees and tall bushes. It only took about thirty seconds at her fast pace to reach a precipice that overlooked the swollen river. The water was slightly clearer here, enough so that she couldn't see any Shui Gui lurking beneath the surface. The were probably all in the village.

About thirty feet down the ravine, Tigress could faintly see the mouth of a cavern that the river flowed into. Logically, if there was something blocking the river, it would be in the cave. She tread further down the path, trying to get as close to the underwater entrance as she could. She would have to swim to see what the blockage was, if there even was one. Since rain hadn't fallen for a couple of days, that surely wasn't the reason for this flood, and according to the old man, this morning the river had been at its normal level.

Eventually the path became so narrow that she had to shimmy across a narrow ledge until even it twisted into the mountain. This was as far as she could go. The cave entrance was only about fifteen feet away, so she could probably dive straight down into it. She didn't see any water ghosts swimming in the river, but they could be hiding in the weeds at the bottom of the river. Back at Oogway's library, there was one forbidden scroll that was about twenty or thirty feet long when fully unrolled that she had once read. It gave detailed information on every Chinese demon and even how to summon some of them. The Shui Gui weren't able to go invisible underwater, but they could hide and wait for living prey to come to them. Fortunately, it seemed as though the weeds were the only place they could hide. She would just have to avoid them.

Taking a massive breath, Tigress dove off the cliff headfirst with her arms spread in front of her. She was driven under the water like a splinter. After a moment of regaining her bearings, she turned and began swimming towards the black maw of the cave, the river water stinging her eyes. As she passed the lip of the cavern, the light was leeched away and replaced with the absolute of darkness that had never felt the sun.

Tigress only had to swim another twenty or so feet before she hit what felt like a soft wall. She frowned in the darkness. That shouldn't be there. With her hands outstretched before her, she began feeling the 'wall', trying to get an idea of what it was. It felt like clay or mud or... Tigress suddenly felt something dislodge from the blockage. Even though it was still dark, the little bit of light at the mouth of the cave allowed her eyes to adjust, and her eyes widened at what was dislodged. An arm. Behind it, a rotting face stared at her, its jellied eyes still holding the soft, dumb look of the dead. It was a body. When she looked around, horrified, she made another shocking revelation.

The entire cavern was blocked with a wall of corpses.


	19. Blind Guardian

A/N Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed my story. The OC used in this chapter is not mine, he belongs to Reidak Tor Pre Viszla. Enjoy

The man had been strung up by the side of the road, the third 'bread crumb' he'd found so far.

He had been flayed, possibly alive, his skin draped over the branches of a low-growing bush. There were three wires holding him up; one wrapped around a nail that had been driven through each of his wrists, the last tied around his neck like a noose. Several long bones were scattered below the corpse, but they were far too old and brittle to belong to this unfortunate victim. The way the body had been hung held no ritualistic significance, but it told him he was on the right path. Every artist has his own signature, after all, and this atrocity had the Puppet Master's name written all over it.

Reidak sat back against the trunk of an ancient tree, his cane and travelling bag beside him. Within the battered canvas rucksack were his 'working' clothes, three spare canes, provisions for his journey, and an arbalest that he had picked up from a foreign merchant a few days ago for a very good price. Now that he was getting so close to catching Sârmă, the thrill of the chase was really beginning to set in. For the past few months, he had been following his quarry on little more than rumours and faded scent trails, but this was the first real lead he had come across. He'd encountered two other corpses mutilated in a similar fashion over the past two weeks, but this one had been placed here at most a day ago.

Reidak sighed and hefted himself back to his feet, tightening the scarf around his face to help muffle the stench. He had tied a handful of sweet-smelling flowers in with the cloth to cover up the reek of the corpse, but it didn't help a whole lot. The heady scent of the flowers and the stench of decay flowed up his nostrils, the sharp contrast beginning to give him a terrible migraine. He wanted to get the hell away from this place and continue his hunt, but he knew that he couldn't just leave this man here to rot.

This was a very bold and reckless murder, Reidak knew. Stringing up a man at the side of the road would normally attract quite a bit of attention, but oddly enough, the scents on the road were stale and old. No one had traversed it in a while, that much was fairly obvious, but the question was, why? The road was wide and had many tracks, suggesting that it was used often, but he hadn't seen anyone in the past few days since he had stayed at an inn. The Puppet Master was apparently trying to keep Reidak on his trail, not running from him. Not anymore. The tiger was being lured somewhere, which stirred another question; did Sârmă have allies in China?

Reidak was aware that he shouldn't stand here too long; he was pretty sure he was being followed. He hadn't gathered any concrete evidence of such, but he'd learned a long time ago that sometimes instincts were all you had to go on. He suspected that whoever was following him was probably not looking to make friends. He really had to get out of here.

But before he departed, he had some moral duties to attend to. Since he didn't have the time to give this poor lost soul a proper burial, he could at least give him a funeral pyre. The twigs were dry and snapped beneath his boots, more than enough for this melancholy deed. With a sigh, he knelt down and began collecting armfuls of firewood for the pyre. What a waste of life, Reidak thought. This man once had a life, dreams, maybe even a family. But now there was nothing but silence. He wished he had the time to do more for this life than just set him on fire. Even erecting a cairn would take too much time, and by then Sârmă could have ended countless more lives. So for now, the funeral pyre would have to do.

...

 _This had started three months ago when a gyrfalcon messenger had come to Reidak, asking him to go to a decaying hospital near where he lived in Vladivostok. The urgency in the bird's voice was clear, so the tiger went to the destination, fearing that maybe one of his children had been injured. When he finally found the room the gyrfalcon had told him to go to, he realized that this had nothing to do with his children. The coppery odour of the advanced stages of sickness and disease greeted him as soon as he opened the door._

" _You came." the voice was raspy and hoarse, but Reidak could tell that this man wasn't that old. He was standing by an open window, the cool, fresh air sweeping into the room. His posture suggested that he was leaning on a cane, the only thing keeping him upright. The weakness, the frailty in the sick man was all but obvious, and his heartbeat was irregular and unusually slow. This man wasn't just sick; he stood at the very precipice of death._

" _Yes," Reidak said. "I received your message. Who are you?"_

" _My name is Artyom. You might recognize me, or not, I don't know. I used to be in charge of the opium trade in Russia." The man fell to his knees as a coughing fit shook him down. Reidak rushed to catch him before he fell, but Artyom pushed him away. "Don't bother," he rasped. "I know who you are, Master Fearless Shadow. The bounty hunter. The vigilante. People call you different names, but I know who you really are, Reidak Tor Pre Viszla."_

" _The third." Reidak corrected. "So why did you call me here? I assume it is in relation to my past as a bounty hunter. I no longer tread that path."_

" _It is, partially." Artyom collapsed onto what must have been a chair. "Have a seat, my friend. There are chairs up against the wall beside you." Reidak complied, sitting down a few feet away from the dying man. Artyom's breathing was harsh and laboured; with every breath the sound of air whistling through diseased lungs could be heard. He couldn't help but feel pity._

" _So you were a drug dealer." Reidak said_

" _No." Artyom chuckled drily. "Not drugs._ Medicine."

" _Medicine is also referred to as drugs."_

" _If only people would look past the intoxication, the addiction, the possibility of overdose, they would see that." Artyom said "The Chinese have already discovered its healing qualities. It is a pain killer the likes of which has never been seen before, an anti-depressant as well. But I digress. I didn't call you here to talk about opium, Master Fearless Shadow. I need your help."_

" _With what?"_

 _Artyom was silent for a moment. It felt as though the air grew thicker in a few short seconds. "My son," he choked out. "He killed my son."_

" _Who did?"_

" _Sârmă," he wheezed. "Sârmă of Wallachia. The Puppet Master. He murdered my son three days ago, in a village near here. He was only seven years old."_

" _I... am sorry." Reidak said earnestly. "Losing family is always hard. I couldn't imagine what losing your own son would be like."_

" _They never catch him," Artyom said. "Sârmă is literally a ghost. He kills wantonly, recklessly, without any remorse, but he is two steps ahead of the law and twenty ahead of morality. He is a true madman in every sense of the word. By the time authorities begin to suspect him, he's long gone from the crime scene and is somehow able to take all of his puppets with him. He left my... my son's body in the inn he had been staying at. He's best known for his extravagant and theatrical puppet shows, during which he selects his victims with the utmost discretion. My wife took my son to his show three days ago, to cheer him up over my... affliction._

" _Now, this disease is eating away at my body, and my son is all but a memory. When I die, he will be truly gone and I think, I think that is the greatest crime I have ever committed. I wish that I could hunt down the Puppet Master and kill him myself, but I can't even make it from one side of the room to the other. Even if I could, I doubt if I would even be able to find him anyway. Most of my 'friends' have abandoned me in my hour of need and even my enemies pity me and wait for me to die. But I've heard the stories and I know that you aren't one to just let such evil go unpunished. From the bottom of my heart, Master Fearless Shadow, I beg you. Please find him and make sure he gets what he deserves."_

 _Reidak sighed, rubbing his temples. When he had come to this hospital, he really hadn't been expecting to get a mission like this, especially not since he hadn't done any bounty hunting in a while. And his target... a man who even the authorities couldn't pin down. He knew from past experience that those who committed reckless and bold crimes and could vanish without a trace were extremely dangerous. Not that that sort of thing bothered him, but he had very little information to go on to begin tracking him. A vague description of a location, rumours of Sârmă's elusiveness, no familiarity whatsoever with this Puppet Master's scent. A physical description would be useless considering Reidak was blind. His enthusiasm must have been shining out of his face._

 _"Where was he last seen?" Reidak asked after a while. He sensed the dying man smile._

" _I can tell you more than just that. I've used the last of my resources, and a few of my men are still loyal to me. I can give you Sârmă's current location. He's using one of Vladivostok's warehouses as a resting point before he heads to his next location tomorrow morning. China. Tonight is your best opportunity to catch him before he flees Russia."_

 _Reidak felt a stab of deep pity. This man, a former criminal, was reduced to begging for justice because of the disease that all but immobilized him. Knowing that your own death was looming over your shoulder would be hard enough, but to have your seven year old son murdered by some lunatic before the disease did its job... it was a real tragedy. His long silence was clearly worrisome for Artyom, who he felt shift uneasily. "Look," Artyom said. "I can pay you if that's the biggest issue..."_

" _That won't be necessary." Reidak said, rising to his feet and picking up his cane. "I will do it. If not just for you, for the world. People like him must be stopped. Who knows who his next victim will be? I doubt if he is here in Vladivostok solely for the purpose of sightseeing. I would hazard a guess that he is picking a victim as we speak, if he hasn't already. He has eluded retribution for far too long, it sounds like."_

" _Thank you. With all that I am, all that I was, I thank you. Now listen well..."_

 _..._

 _Reidak had no trouble finding the warehouse as the sun set. Artyom's directions were extremely clear and accurate. Now he sat on the roof of the building beside the warehouse, listening hard for any sounds coming from within. He had changed from his civilian garb into his working clothes, jet black pants with a red sash around his waist, a sleeveless vest with the right side cut away, exposing his arm and part of his chest. He wore black military boots and had a bandanna tied around his eyes._

 _He couldn't hear anything in the warehouse. At first he began to fear that he came too late and the Puppet Master had fled Russia, but he at least had to take a look. Taking a deep breath, he bunched his muscles and cleared the ten foot gap between the buildings easily. He landed on the very edge of the roof and lowered himself down, feeling with his feet for a window._

 _It didn't take him long to find one. Reidak let go of the roof and fell, grabbing the sill of the window and pulling himself up, pressing his ear to the glass and listening carefully. He had been wrong before. Someone was definitely in there. He could hear calm, even breathing and, faintly, a heartbeat. The heartbeat was measured and suggested that whoever it belonged to was in no state of anticipation of attack. Perfect._

 _Reidak punched out the window and threw himself into the warehouse in a storm of glass shards, landing on his feet, pulling out his two billy clubs which he disguised as canes. He listened. The man hadn't moved, hadn't reacted to the tiger's sudden intrusion. Their calmness and lack of movement made it nearly impossible for him to pinpoint their location._

" _They aren't watching anymore." A thickly accented voice said in Russian. There was absolutely no emotion, no compassion in its tone. Reidak spun and faced the direction which the voice had come from. "No demons of hell, no angels of God, nobody. We are alone, my friend, alone..."_

" _Sârmă, I presume?"_

" _Yes." Sârmă whispered. "And you, you are not the one in my dreams, the one I was expecting. You are supposed to be a female. And there is no panda with you! This is all very, very wrong... disappointing."_

Panda? _Reidak thought with a frown. There weren't any pandas in Russia, at least not that he knew of. This man was obviously insane; he could smell the crazy on him. He took note to pay little attention to the ravings of this madman. "You have much to answer for, Sârmă." Reidak said, twirling one of his clubs like a baton._

" _And who is to be my judge, Master Fearless Shadow? You?"_

 _Reidak gave a small start of surprise. How did he know his name?_

 _A low, dry chuckle sounded out, and he heard footsteps as the Puppet Master walked towards him. "Yes... I can see in your eyes, covered they may be, your intentions. You came here under the unwise presumption that you, or anyone under the heavens can stop me. Such courage, such foolishness. You will make a fine addition to my collection."_

 _Reidak threw out the grappling hook that was hidden inside his billy clubs. There was a whoosh of air as the Puppet Master dodged it, and he heard more footsteps coming, dozens of them. But something wasn't right with them. He and Sârmă were the only living people in the room, but dozens of men were marching towards him, none of which had heartbeats. Reidak heard wood creaking and came to a sudden realization._ Puppets. He's actually going to fight me with puppets?

 _He had no more time to think about it as he leaped in the air, narrowly avoiding two of the puppets as they came flying towards him. He heard the rafters creak above his head and realized that Sârmă had attached wires to them. The grappling hook came out of his billy club again, catching on the shoulder of another puppet that came at him and throwing it completely off balance, where it spun and whirled in the air. He jumped, vaulted over its head and sprinted on all fours to where he heard the Puppet Master's calm, rhythmic heart beat._

" _You have had some pugilistic training, that much I can see." Sârmă said as he redirected his puppets in a massive loop to create a blockade between him and Reidak. "But physical combat can only do so much. Listen, my friend, do you hear them? Clawing at your eyes, your soul? They want you to join them in their eternal trance. Never again will you feel pain, feel the fear of being forgotten after you die. In my glorious kingdom, memories never die, never die! Not even after their hosts have passed from this world."_

 _One of Reidak's billy clubs smashed into the head of a puppet that stood between him and his quarry. The impact sent a jarring shockwave through the weapon and his arm, but he ignored the pain and dove forward, under the puppet's swinging blade. He heard the sharp whoosh as the sword cut the air in two, and he disarmed another one of the wooden figures with a strong blow, but another one always stood in his path._

I can't get close to this guy, _Reidak thought, kicking a puppet away and sidestepping another flying one that would have skewered him with its spear. It felt like he was standing in a hurricane of wood and steel that directed all its divine wrath towards him. If he could get close enough to the Puppet Master, he imagined that it wouldn't be all that hard for him to defeat the madman. The problem was, that seemed nearly impossible. Never before had Master Fearless Shadow met anyone like this, who could fight with life-sized puppets not only effectively, but unbelievably well._

" _Dance, little puppet, dance." Sârmă said with an unearthly calm. His voice sounded very close; his heartbeat was almost lost in this whirlwind of puppets. He had clearly underestimated Reidak because of his blindness, and in the next ten seconds, Sârmă would be getting pummelled or Reidak would get brutally killed. Hopefully not the latter. Master Fearless Shadow danced between two puppets that were standing side by side and slashing wildly with what he assumed were swords, and threw a billy club at the location where the Puppet Master's voice had last been heard._

 _He heard it hit, and he was on him in a second with his remaining weapon. Wielding the club in a two-handed grip, he leaped twenty feet into the air, doing several frontflips on the way down to gain momentum, his weapon held above his head. It hit the stunned Puppet Master with enough force to shatter stone, and as soon as it hit, he knew he messed up bad. It wasn't the yielding flesh he'd been expecting at all, but wood._

Shit, _Reidak thought, hearing a whoosh of air as two puppets came at him from either side, spears extending forward. He jumped into the air again and heard the sharpened spear-heads thud into wood. Reidak, in the trance of battle, completely forgot about the strings and became tangled up in them in seconds, forcing him to drop his only remaining club. He was suspended ten feet off the ground, completely immobilized._

" _No matter how good your senses are, I will always find a way to outsmart you." Sârmă said. His voice came from the far side of the room. How the hell did he get over there without him noticing? "I have encountered warriors like you before, blind masters, whose hearing gives them a far clearer picture than eyes ever could. They are now some of my most prized puppets. You are privileged to be granted the honour of joining them."_

 _Reidak struggled fiercely against his bindings when he heard Sârmă's puppets change their looping formations into a massive wave that converged on him at once. Acting on instinct, he unsheathed his claws on one hand and severed the strings with a single blow, causing himself and the puppets they were connected to to fall to the ground. He still wasn't fast enough to avoid one of the swarm giving him a nice long cut on his back on the way down. He landed in a crouch, teeth gritted against the pain, and then launched himself out of the way of the puppet tide as they were redirected back towards him._

 _Sârmă wasn't speaking anymore, and he couldn't hear his heartbeat over the sound of rushing wind, countless metal blades pinging off each other, and the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Reidak's back was wet from his fresh wound, and he was panting slightly._ No wonder no one was able to catch this guy, _he thought._ Even an army would be hard-pressed to defeat his puppets. _Fortunately, in the time he had been dodging hundreds of blows from all manner of different weapons, he had come up with an effective plan. The only problem with it was the fact that he only had one shot with it, and if he failed death would be the consequence._

 _There was no time to think about it; the puppets were relentless and lightning fast. Reidak jumped, vaulted off the wall, and sprung with all of his might for the rafters. The puppets wouldn't be able to reach him there, and he could take time to assess his surroundings and pinpoint his adversary's exact location. His claws scraped the rafter then held. He pulled himself up and crouched on the top of it, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. Below him, the puppets ceased their frenzied thrashing and began circling lazily, menacingly, like a group of sharks waiting for prey to fall into the depths. His hunch was right; they couldn't reach him up here._

 _He listened. He only just noticed now that there was a very faint odour of decay and mold, which, coupled with the oiled wood of the puppets, effectively eliminated Sârmă's scent. Now that the frenzied whirling of the puppets had slowed, he gained a clearer sense of hearing. Straining his hears, he finally heard what he was listening for._

 _Thud. Thud. Thud._

 _Sârmă's heartbeat. It was still unnervingly calm. He was standing right in the middle of the whirling ring of puppets, his fingers flicking and dancing as he controlled his creations. Wires ran from between his fingers up to the rafters where Reidak was hiding. The Puppet Master was watching him, he realized, his eyes drinking in every movement he made, every tensed muscle. "Clever," Sârmă said. "You've lasted longer than the others. Tell me, my friend, why not give in? You will be remembered forever, and never need to know the pain, the responsibility, of independent thought. All will be merely the bliss and the joy that is my glorious kingdom."_

 _Reidak went out of his way to appear as though he weren't listening. The ravings of this madman were beginning to get on his nerves. He suddenly couldn't wait until he beat the shit out of this guy and could let Artyom know that justice had been served. But he couldn't rush this battle. He was already becoming familiar with the Puppet Master's style of fighting, as he surely was accustomed to Reidak's. He couldn't do anything without his puppets, and without strings, he couldn't control them._

 _Reidak let himself drop off the rafters, praying to God that he had timed it right and gotten the location correct. He unsheathed his claws and spun like a top as he fell, and then sliced all of the wires that ran from Sârmă's hand to the rafters. There was a muffled clattering as half of his puppets fell to the ground, lifeless. He closed in on his adversary as the Puppet Master took a few steps back, fighting make his remaining puppets into a wall. He wasn't fast enough._

 _The tiger's foot caught Sârmă in the chest, sending the elderly man flying back, knocking several wooden figures aside. This time he was hitting the real Puppet Master, and not a clever substitute. Reidak was on him before he even hit the ground, planting a boot on his chest. "So," Reidak said. "What was that about always outsmarting me?"_

" _Impressive." his foe laughed softly, coldly. "Out of all the warriors, the heroes, the beacons of light and courage that the flesh-puppets look to to take away their problems, you are the most entertaining to fight. But once again, I have outsmarted_ you. _"_

" _How so?" Reidak asked, on high alert in case if the puppets began to move towards him again. For the moment, they seemed still, hanging lifelessly from their strings._

" _You see, a true strategist always prepares for the possibility of defeat. There are approximately one hundred and fifty two corpses hidden in airtight boxes at the back of this warehouse. When the guards come here and find you, your boot to my throat, who do you think they'll believe put them there more? The scarred warrior, or the old man who plays with puppets?"_

 _All of a sudden, Reidak heard dozens of heavy footsteps tramping down the street towards the door of the building. "You called the guards." he said._

 _He didn't have to be able to see to know Sârmă was smiling. "You know," the Puppet Master said. "It will be a true shame to end this battle so quickly. But when they are hosting your public execution, know that I will be the first to show up, and the last to leave."_

 _The guards were pounding at the door now. "Open up, right now! We know you're in there. You are under arrest for mass murder!"_

 _Sârmă threw Reidak's foot off off him and leaped away, scaling the wall with such speed that it told him that he had to be a simian of some kind. Reidak stomped on the ground, releasing a shockwave of sound through every surface in the ground. The vibrations painted the room for him in perfect, crystalline detail. It is often said that blindness made you an easy target, but he could see things the sighted could not._

Good, _he thought. His weapons were only a couple feet away from him. He retrieved his billy clubs and jumped through the air after the Puppet Master. His grappling hook was disengaged, and it caught on the windowsill his antagonist had jumped through. He pulled himself through the open window as the door broke down and the guards came pouring into the building._

 _Sârmă was ahead of him; for such an old man he was surprisingly spry. Reidak jumped to the next building and began sprinting on all fours after him. The cool night wind kissed his face as he kept up his pursuit, his billy clubs bouncing off of his lower back. Now that there were no interfering odours, he could now smell Sârmă's scent- he converted it to memory in case if he got away. Preparation is key to victory._

 _Sârmă leaped across a gap and onto the roof of a next building, Reidak hard on his heels. The Puppet Master's heartbeat was fast, erratic, not as calm as it had been when they were fighting. He had to keep in mind that even though on the rooftops was an intense chase, below people were carrying on with their normal lives, however normal you could be at this ungodly hour. He was rapidly gaining ground on his quarry; he had much more stamina than the old man. Without the wires set up, he had absolutely no chance if Reidak caught up to him._

 _Another jump, the brief dropping in his stomach as he cleared another void between the buildings and hit the rooftop running. Sârmă was making strange patterns and detours in his route, with seemingly no direction whatsoever. Reidak was rapidly gaining ground on the Puppet Master, and soon he wouldn't be able to escape. It was unlikely he could anyway. As soon as he thought this, he caught a scent in the ear and realized what he was playing at._

 _The scent of the sea's salt greeting him, and Reidak knew they had almost reached the port of the bay. There were a few ships there getting ready to set sail, despite the fact it was the dead of night. Sârmă was headed straight for it. He wasn't going to make it._

 _Reidak knocked the Puppet Master's legs out from under him, and heard the old man fall directly on his face. He turned him over, picked him up by the front of his coat, and pinned him up against a chimney. "You may have put up a good chase, Puppet Master, but I..." Reidak trailed off. This wasn't Sârmă. He released it and the puppet fell to the ground with a wooden thud._

How? _Was all Reidak could think. There were no strings on this puppet, no possible way for him to control it. It was... impossible. He could even hear a heartbeat coming from within its breast. When he pressed his ear to its chest, he realized that there was something inside of it that banged around within a soft walled container, effectively mimicking a heartbeat. The puppet was even wearing real clothes that were drenched in Sârmă's scent, contaminating the oiled wood. Its joints were so well lubricated that they didn't creak at all._

 _There were running footsteps behind Reidak, on a building thirty feet away. He dropped the puppet and chased after it, recognizing Sârmă's scent even from this distance. He withdrew a billy club, threw out the hook and swung to the abode the Puppet Master was running across. This one had to be the real one. He was much closer to the harbour than Reidak was, and the desperation gave him the endurance to carry on. The tiger had to give it his all, right now, or else Sârmă would escape. He picked up speed, his arms and legs a blur, but the Puppet Master was still a few feet ahead of him._

 _All of a sudden, Sârmă jumped for all he was worth. Reidak instinctively drew a billy club again and threw the grappling hook, aiming to catch him in midair and pull him back. He felt the cable continue to extend and extend, and he held his breath, fervently praying that it caught him. They were at the harbour now, and if Sârmă hit the ground, he would be home free._

 _The cable snapped as it reached the end of its length, the grappling hook succumbing to the ruthless embrace of gravity and pinging of the side of the ship, before splashing into the water. Sârmă hit the deck of the ship, just as the crew finished pulling up the anchor. "No!" Reidak shouted. He jumped to the ground and ran to the dock. Sârmă gave the captain a bag of coins and then they were off. The sails were unfurled, catching the strong night wind and pulling the ship with it. In a few seconds, the ship was too far away to jump to and there was no way in hell he could catch up to it by swimming._

 _There was a man standing at the edge of the dock. His scent identified him as being a goat. Reidak ran up to him. "Where was that boat heading to?" he asked breathlessly._

" _Shanghai, China. Next one doesn't come for three weeks. You should have come earlier."_

" _Damn it," Reidak muttered under his breath. He nodded his thanks to the goat and walked back. Sârmă might have gotten away for now, but he wasn't giving up just yet. He was going to hunt him down to the ends of the earth if he had to, and make sure justice was served._

 _He spent the next day packing for his journey. If he left soon, he could reach Shanghai before Sârmă did. After Reidak said goodbye to his children and promised he'd be back, he departed. There was a man in China who Artyom told him to meet, who could potentially help him find Sârmă if the worst case scenario happened and he got away. That was the first thing he planned on doing when he reached China, but for now, he had to begin his journey._

 _..._

Reidak finished covering the body with dry twigs and leaves. He had cut the wires that had hung him and tried his best to cross his arms before constructing the funeral pyre. He used two pieces of flint he brought with him to spark the blaze. By the time the twigs had caught light, he was already halfway down the road, unwilling to smell the reek of burning corpse. If Artyom was right, he should be close to Fēngbào's abode. He just hoped that Artyom was telling the truth about Fēngbào being trustworthy and knowledgeable. Reidak really didn't expect those two traits to be prevalent in a drug dealer, but it was worth a shot.

With a heavy heart, he carried on down the road, praying that he would soon see an end to all this needless death,

...

Shifu couldn't find peace in the darkness that engulfed the valley. He had his eyes close, and was breathing deeply to try and induce calmness. He sat in front of the Moonpool, trying in vain to meditate. "Inner peace..." he murmured, his ears twitching. It was no good; he couldn't focus now. All of his thoughts were directed to the notion that Xiedu Dehua was returning to paint the town red. He prayed to the gods, to the spirit of Oogway, to just plain damn luck, that it wasn't true. But deep in his heart, he knew that it was. "Inner peace..."

"You won't find that anymore."

Shifu's eyes shot open and he spun around to face the intruder, instantly going into an offensive battle stance. His sensitive ears hadn't picked up the slightest disturbance or sound. The intruder was a man, taller than Shifu but not by much. He wore blood-red robes with a darker crimson bamboo breastplate. A white yaoguai mask covered his face, painted intricately with blood-red symbols. Beneath the eyeholes, his eyes were rheumy and bloodshot. He gave off a menacing, powerful aura.

"Who are you?" Shifu demanded. "How did you get in here?"

"My name is Yāoshén. I am the one who summoned the Diao si Gui to attack your students. But the past is the past, and now I've come to deliver a message."

"Oh?"

"The Jiang village is flooded." Yāoshén said. "It is unsafe for your precious villagers to take refuge in. It is also mostly my doing."

Shifu narrowed his eyes, then leaped towards the summoner in an unexpected attack. To his surprise, he passed right through the man as though he were completely incorporeal.

"Don't bother. I'm not really here, so listen up. My time is extremely valuable, and I haven't come here to fuck around. Know that what I am going to tell you is against my Master's orders."

"And what is your message, exactly?" Shifu asked, relaxing his grip on his staff slightly, but not enough to be unprepared in case if Yāoshén attacked him.

"Yes, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, the Jiang village is flooded. However, there is a village approximately one mile to the north of it. It is known as the Taiyang village, and it has been abandoned for over fifty years, after a brutal massacre took place in its walls. It holds little to no strategic value to my Master anymore, so he will ignore it. It will be safe for your people to stay there."

"And why should I trust you?"

"Shifu," the red-clad summoner said with a great deal of solemnity. "My desire is to see everyone at the Jade Palace suffer a horrific and painful demise, dragged out over a few days or even weeks. Not the people of the Valley, as my Master would surely do if they were here. My fight is, and always has been, with you, with the palace. I hope you take heed of this message; hundreds of lives are at stake here. Hundreds of _innocent_ lives. Or should I assume that pride means more to you than your people?"

Shifu growled under his breath. "I will always do what is best for the people of the valley. Whoever your Master is, know that we will always be here to stand in his way should he try to harm them."

But he was speaking to empty air. Yāoshén had mysteriously vanished. A few faint wisps of smoke were drifting from where he had been standing, the only indication that he had ever been here at all. With a huff, Shifu turned around and sat back down again in front of the Moonpool. Trying to relax again, he inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled.

"Inner peace..."


	20. The Puppet Master

_Art comes in so many different forms, you see, but the true artist must always find the perfect canvas in which to forge his masterpiece. And on this foggy night in Tavrichanka, Russia, one was delivered practically to his doorstep._

 _Sârmă smiled as he watched the Siberian lynx child sit on the road outside of the inn he was staying at. The child was sobbing hard, his shoulders shaking, the fog obscuring all but his silhouettes. No one came to collect this child, and no one left the inn to see what was wrong. This image invoked a memory of him, sixty years ago, sitting on a sidewalk in Wallachia after escaping from the men who had brought his parents from a land far, far away. The little lynx was a perfect canvas for him, and better yet, his mother was nowhere to be seen._

 _Tonight had been a most wonderful performance, an adaptation of Anika the Warrior's battle against Death itself. It had captivated the audience, drew their eyes to the show like moths to a flame. They could never have imagined that he had been picking a model to make yet another work of art from. He had seen the little lynx sitting with his mother, and he had been as drawn to the boy as the boy had been to his puppetry skills. The young made such wonderful works of art, their youth permanently preserved in their new skins of wood and metal. If you were lucky you could still hear the screams of children weeks after their transfer._

 _Sârmă turned around, preparing to leave the inn. Around his spacious, yet cozy room, were strewn life-sized puppets on the floor and hanging from the coat hooks. He took a moment to admire his gallery. Truly, nothing was more beautiful in life than death. They didn't need to fear the vast expanse of oblivion anymore, for they were all family in his embrace. This was but a fraction of his collection, however; he had hundreds more hidden in a secret cache in the town. He looked towards the desk he was using as a workbench. The mostly finished head of a puppet sat on its side on the desktop, its face turned away from him. He smiled faintly and left the inn._

 _Outside, the air was damp and cold. The lynx's sobbing was audible now, and it was like music to the Puppet Master's ears. Donning a smiling mask of gentle comfort, Sârmă came up to the boy. "Come now, child, why do you cry? Tonight is a most wondrous night. Anguish has no place here."_

 _The lynx looked over his shoulder. The fur on his cheeks was matted with tears, and his eyes were bloodshot from crying. Sârmă's smile widened slightly. "What is wrong, little child?"_

" _My... my daddy." the lynx choked out, then burst out into tears. He carried on for another minute or so, until the Puppet Master stepped closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. The cherubic lad sniffled a few times then looked back at him. Recognition flooded his gaze. "You're the man who did the puppet show!"_

 _Sârmă smiled. "Yes, yes, I am, little one. Did you enjoy my performance?" The lynx nodded fiercely, a tiny smile breaking his mask of grief. "How wonderful!" The Puppet Master said. "It is always good to meet a child who recognizes true art. Now tell me, little one, what is wrong with your father?"_

" _He's..." Tears threatened to flow anew from the boy's eyes. Sârmă patted his back comfortingly. "He's sick. Mommy tried to tell me he's going to get better soon, but I heard the doctor speaking with her. The doctor said... he said that he didn't have long left to live."_

" _I am truly sorry." Sârmă said. "So sad it is when one as young as you must go through such hardship. I know from experience._

 _The lynx looked at him with his little head cocked slightly. "You do?"_

 _Sârmă nodded. "Of course. I came from a land across the great blue sea, a beautiful land, or so my parents said. They were captured and brought to Wallachia to be sold as slaves. I was born and raised there, as a slave, but I got free when I was around your age. I had watched my parents be scourged to death with a cat'o nine tails only because they took a lunch break from their labour without the slavelord's permission."_

" _Really?" the child's eyes were as wide as moon when he looked back at the Puppet Master, reflecting the torchlight of the lamp posts around the streets. Sârmă nodded. "Now, what's your name, little one?"_

" _Viktor."_

" _Ah, what a wonderful name. I am Sârmă. And how old are you?"_

" _Eight." Viktor puffed his chest out proudly. "I'm going to be nine in two weeks!" The innocence of children was so sweet. So sweet, so easy to manipulate._

" _You're going to be a big boy soon." Sârmă said. "How would you like to have an early birthday present? A very, very special one."_

" _Yeah!" The lynx leaped to his feet, looking up at Sârmă with a smile on his face. "What is it?"_

" _A performance." Sârmă smiled, looking into the little one's dazzling blue eyes. "A special one. One only for you."_

" _Wow! Do you really mean it?"_

" _Do I look like a man who would lie? Come with me, little one. If you are a good boy, I can even give you membership in my glorious kingdom."_

" _Your what?" Viktor frowned. Sârmă smiled at his naivete. Children were so easy to fool, and they made the most memorable works of art, as he had mentioned before. "My glorious kingdom." Sârmă repeated. "It is... magnificent. A world of peace and eternal harmony, where no one will ever die, where memories last forever."_

" _Really?" Viktor's eyes went round and were shining. "Could my daddy join too? Please, Mr. Sârmă?"_

" _Of course." The Puppet Master said softly. "All are welcome in my glorious kingdom."_

 _The lynx cub gasped. "I wanna join your kingdom! Please, please, please!"_

" _Of course. But first I must show you your special birthday performance." Sârmă looked to the left and the right. No one was watching. By the time anyone started to notice Viktor gone, there would be nothing to follow him with. "Follow me, little one. Follow me into the glory of a world where death is just a fairy tale."_

" _Okay!" Viktor allowed the Puppet Master to lead him through the door of the inn. Fortunately, this late at night, no one was up. Not even the innkeeper. No one would hear a thing, snuggled in their beds and their false illusion of security. "Why'd you come to Russia, Mr. Sârmă?" Viktor suddenly asked._

 _He smiled._

" _I am a wanderer. I simply travel to wherever I can perform. You see, little one, I was once like you. Distraught, lonely, suffering heavy loss. But I found my true calling."_

" _What is it?"_

" _To preserve. Memory is a powerful thing, Viktor. When a wise old man taught me the art of puppetry, I realized just what memory was capable of. Every puppet I make, every one of them, is based on a person who inspired me in such a way that I want them to be with me forever." They were at the door to his room. Sârmă fished into his coat pocket and pulled out his key. He inserted it into the lock and pushed the door open. "Come in, little Viktor. Come and bask in the warmth of my glorious kingdom!"_

 _The child's reaction was priceless. His mouth hung slightly open as he gazed, wide-eyed, around the room, taking in the vast collection of realistic puppets. "These are so cool!" He exclaimed. "How do you make them look so real?"_

" _Memory, young Viktor." Sârmă said softly. "My earliest memories in this world were of death. I was distraught by my parents death, to the extent that when I learned puppetry, they were the first ones I made. By that time I could barely remember what their faces looked like. Madness had consumed me thoroughly and utterly, a darkness that obfuscated my memory and hid my morality behind black curtains. My memory was not sound, and I had little clarity as to my purpose in this world. But then, then, you see, I realized that memory was the most powerful thing in the world. Thus, I started my glorious kingdom of puppets," He spread his hands with a flourish, gesturing to the puppets around him"based on those who have passed from this world. You see, in time, everyone will be forgotten. You, me, your parents, everyone. Just tiny pieces on a vast celestial chessboard. Unless if you join my glorious kingdom._

" _My mission has brought me from Wallachia to England, to Russia and soon to China. I have chosen the finest, most beautiful specimens for it. And when I craft a new puppet, I always carve the faces first. Do you want to know why?"_

 _Viktor nodded. Sârmă shut the door behind him and smiled. "I carve the faces first because they are the best portraits of your life. In your final moments on this earth, your last thoughts, everything you once were, is painted in your expression in death. Whether you died screaming, fighting, or in peace, it tells me all I need to know about the next masterpiece." He trotted over to his workbench, picked up a small carving knife and the partly finished puppet head, and gently begin to scrape excess wood off of it. "I wonder what your face will look like? You see, children are always the most interesting. They barely had a chance to live their life, and when it is cut off so suddenly, who knows what their final face will be?" He lifted the head and observed its face. It was perfect masterpiece so far. "Will their final thoughts be of peace? Fear? Elation? Maybe they had already decided that they don't want to live their lives, and were glad to embrace the unknown. Tell me, little Viktor, what are you thinking right now?"_

 _Sârmă turned around to see a look of growing unease in the lynx's face. He was beginning to be clued in. Smart kid. But not smart enough to have avoided getting caught in this position. When he turned around, the face on the puppet's unfinished head became visible to the child. The unease turned into terror._

" _That's my face!" Viktor whispered. "Have you... have you been watching me?"_

" _Yes, yes, of course little one. I knew when I saw you at my performance that you were the ideal specimen for my kingdom. You were so easy to fool, my little friend. And I am sorry to say, that when you join my kingdom, it is very likely that you will never see either of your parents again."_

" _I don't wanna join anymore." Viktor whimpered, backing away and seeming to shrink in size. "Please don't hurt me, Mr. Sârmă."_

 _Sârmă's smile grew cold. "You don't have a choice anymore, Viktor. You have already told me you wanted to join. From here on, until the world itself is reduced to cosmic debris, you will call me King Sârmă."_

 _As soon as he said the words, he raised one of his fingers. The light caught on a single tiny thread that led up to the ceiling, looped around a rafter once, and went back down to the puppet closest to the door. A beautiful snow leopardess, one whom he had taken great pleasure in the transference, jumped into life. A knife appeared in her wooden hand, and it thrust out straight into Viktor's tiny back. The child never saw it coming. He could only gasp, his eyes bulging, blood leaking from his open mouth, and then collapse on the ground, dead. It turned out that this child's last face was one of terror._

" _It looks like you may have some more company," Sârmă said to the leopardess puppet. "How sweet. Maybe he will forget who his parents were and accept you as his mother. Wouldn't that be lovely? You finally get the child you always wanted." The puppet didn't respond, only lowered her head with a wooden creaking sound as he removed the thread from his finger. "What? Do I get no thanks for your immortality, love? Your dream has been granted. Solace is now yours."_

 _He knelt down and lifted the dead child's head up to observe his face. His expression was so captivating. Terror, anguish, and the everlasting peace of the beyond. Sârmă had captured the expression perfectly. He walked back to his workbench and picked up the head. It was a flawless match. He let out a sigh of pleasure. Why would anyone desire drugs or alcohol when the greatest high in the world was that of creating art?_

 _The whispering came again, the same voices that had haunted him for the past week and a half. Many voices, none of which sounded like they were meant for mortal ears. He craned his head and glared at his puppets. "Shut up! I'm trying to think here!" But it wasn't them speaking. No, not this time, no it wasn't. It was_ them. _The Ancient Ones. Those With No Names. Their promises sounded so sweet and seductive, writhing through his brain, haunting his dreams with images of black, greasy worms slithering through a sea of corpses. He saw in his mind, the most perfect pair for his kingdom. A giant panda and a beautiful tigress, warriors of light and honour. When this vision came into mind, his heart almost stopped. They were... perfection, the very paragon of prowess itself. They would be his, no matter what, along with any others who gazed upon his glorious kingdom._

 _Chuckling softly to himself, the Puppet Master knew that the time was coming for his glorious kingdom to be the new world order._


	21. Wrath of the Vodyanoi

Po set the pig down on dry ground, pausing to look over his shoulder at the village. The water was still rising. Crane was out there still, breaking into houses and saving the people trapped inside. "Thank you." The pig he'd rescued said, shaking his hand profusely. "I owe you my life!"

Po smiled. "Naw. Just doing the duties of the bodaciously awesome Dragon Warrior. Anyway, just keep going down the road and you'll come across the others."

He left before the pig could respond. There wasn't any time to waste with chit-chat. The river was in the process of swallowing the town whole. He was pretty sure that almost everyone was out of the town, at least. Po had gone through about half of the rickety houses, and he saw Crane flying overhead a few times with someone in his claws. If he estimated correctly, there should only be a couple of people left in the town.

Po jumped from the hill onto a large piece of floating wood, the force of his impact carrying the makeshift raft twenty paces into the river. His weight made it sink a couple of feet, but remain afloat. Many of the houses had collapsed or had partially done so. The water was filled with debris of all sorts. Broken wood, furniture, smashed porcelain. No bodies though, which was fortunate. Always pays to look at the bright side.

Something moved under the surface of the water. Po narrowed his eyes, trying to get a good look at it through the debris-choked mire. It looked like it had vanished, but- there! It was an elderly goat, floundering under the water. As he watched, the river pulled the man through the shattered foundation of a house, where he vanished into the wreckage. He heard loud splashing coming from within. "Hold on, man! I'm coming!"

Po rapidly began to paddle the raft towards the house, which took longer than he would have liked because he was using only his hands. He jumped from the raft and grabbed hold of the top of the collapsed wall, which crumbled slightly as he set his weight on it. He was preparing to pull himself up the wall, but the splashing became louder a second before a massive shape barrelled through the wall he was climbing up.

Po was sent flying backward, to land with a tremendous splash in the flood, water filling his nostrils immediately. He coughed, and even more water filled his lungs. He burst through the surface of the river, spluttering, to see the monster that had attacked him. It was a truly strange abomination. It had a wide, froglike mouth and lambent red eyes. It stood on two bent legs and its arms were long, the fingers webbed with wicked talons on them. Moss grew on its head, and it was draped in river muck and plants. It had to be at least ten feet tall when its legs were fully extended.

"What the hell are you?" Po asked it, floundering in the water and not expecting an answer. To his unbridled surprise, he got one.

"I am the Vodyanoi." It rumbled. Its voice was deep and guttural, with a strange accent that sounded like it could have been Russian, Polish, or any other Slavic language. As soon as it finished speaking, its mouth opened and a long, fleshy pink tongue shot out with such speed that Po couldn't comprehend what happened until he was lifted out of the water by it and being swung around in the air. It released him and he felt a few heart-stopping seconds of weightlessness as he flew. He smashed through a mud wall and, thankfully, landed on the second floor of a house.

Rubbing his back, which was bleeding and splintered from dragging across wood, he turned to see that the Vodyanoi paddling toward him, using a fallen tree trunk as a boat. Po didn't give it the time to snare him with its tongue again. He jumped from the house and kicked the monster in the face, knocking it off the log. He tried to balance on the slippery wood, but it sunk under his weight and dipped, almost throwing him into the water.

He felt several pairs of hands grab at his ankles and roughly pulling him off his stand. Po was able to suck in a breath and plug his nose before he plunged into the water, but only just. The hands didn't relent, dragging him ever deeper into the soaking darkness. _What the hell is trying to kill me_ now? He kicked furiously as he saw the eldritch red eyes of the Vodyanoi glaring at him through the murky depths, swimming towards him with mephistophelian intent. Po realized, too late, how stupid it was to attack this demon in its own domain. He kicked furiously at the hands that were attempting to drown him.

After a moment of thrashing, he felt the hands let go of his ankles and quickly swam up towards the surface of the water, almost all oxygen depleted from his lungs. As soon as he reached the sweet, delicious air, he noticed that he was right beside the house he had jumped from to attack the Vodyanoi. Po kicked out with his feet, trying to reach the wall, and then remembered that the demon could probably swim a hell of a lot faster than him. Then its claws dug into his back and tried to pull him back under the water. He spun around, the talons carving deep gouges in its back, but he was free of its grasp. He punched it in the face, which was partially above the surface of the water.

The Vodyanoi let out an ear-splitting screech as Po's fist made tremendous impact with its ugly face. As soon as its mouth opened, he grabbed its greasy tongue and kicked it in the chest under the water, sending both of them flying away from each other. Po jumped up the wall of the house in two bounds and yanked the Vodyanoi up with him. It let out a strangled cry as he dragged it out of its domain and onto the second floor of the house.

"You're in _my_ domain now, ugly," Po smirked. "Get ready to feel the thunder!"

His fist caught the demon in its massive, scaly stomach, and he kicked it in the face as it hunched over in pain. All of the Vodyanoi's fluid grace in the water was gone on the land, and it slashed blindly at Po with its claws, almost gutting him. He jumped back and pressed forward again, hitting the demon with a blistering flurry of punches and kicks. The monster flinched backwards, but before it could fall back into the water, Po slipped behind it and kicked it hard in the back, making it stumble away from the water and its source of power.

When the panda converged on it again, the Vodyanoi spun around so fast it surprised him, its claws flashing. It sliced across his snout, thankfully not too deeply, but it hurt enough that it distracted Po. The demon punched the ground, breaking a fist-sized hole in the floor, and then dug its fingers into it and pulled outward, widening it exponentially. It jumped to the other side and Po gasped at what rose from it.

A pillar of rotting flesh and limbs climbed out of the hole, making a wet moaning sound. It looked as though some twisted architect tried to make a column by cobbling together the corpses of hundreds of different species. Paws, hooves, claws, and skeletal arms reached for him, a hundred pairs of tortured eyes staring into his with pleading expressions. All in all, the monstrosity stretched about twenty feet above his head

"KILL US!" The scream they made could have shattered heaven itself, a thousand bedevilled voices expressing their pain the skies. Po clamped his hands over his ears, feeling blood begin to seep from them. The Vodyanoi laughed; somehow he heard it with his ears blocked.

"These are the damned souls of all those who wandered into my demesne." The Vodyanoi said, its wide mouth twisting upwards into a frightening smile. "They are my slaves now, little mortal. Feel the agony of a thousand hellbound spirits. Soon, you will..." The demon trailed off, looking off into the distance. Its face then contorted into an expression of anger. "The _suka_ ," it hissed. "It is impossible! She could not have undone it!"

Po, who had begun backing away from the horrific, screaming pillar, looked over at his shoulder, then had to do a double take. The water level wasn't rising anymore; it was lowering. It would no doubt take several hours until it was back to normal, but still... he remembered that Crane had told him Tigress went to find the source of the flood, and it looked like she had done more than that. He laughed out loud, drawing the attention of the Vodyanoi. Its hate-filled eyes fixed on the panda and his shit-eating grin. "Yup." he said "That would be Tigress. I knew she'd find a way to screw the Master over."

"The Master...?" it frowned, cocking its head curiously. "The only Master I serve is the demon god Yāoshén. His hordes will devour you all. Just wait and see." As soon as it finished speaking, it dove through the hole and vanished with a loud splash. When it did that, the corpse pillar exploded into water, showering over Po. He laughed again, his arms spread out wide. If the Vodyanoi thought it could defeat her, it had another thing coming. Still chuckling, Po began to make his way back to the hill where they started.

...

Tigress burst out of the river with a gasp, grabbing the rocky side of the cliff. The water level was continuously rising, faster than she thought was possible. There was no way she could stay in this river without drowning, or dying from being poisoned by the wall of corpses. This flood was inevitably going to keep on spreading unless if the blockage was removed. Who knew how far it would go? The land here was mostly flat, and many other villages were huddled by the banks. There's no telling how many towns would be decimated by it. That left only one option; she had to clear out the bodies by herself. But how? If there were enough bodies crammed in the cave to stop an entire river, what could one warrior do?

Fate was favouring her today, it seemed. As she stood there for a moment in the water, something bumped against her back. It was a massive branch- more of like a small tree, really- but it gave her an idea. It was about fifteen feet long and about five inches thick. The perfect size. She dug her claws into the wet bark and pulled it closer to her, refusing to surrender it to the relentless flood. Taking a massive, final gulp of air, she dove beneath the murky water, praying the Shui Gui hadn't found her yet. She swam through the open mouth of the cave and was greeted once again by the ghastly wall of rotting corpses. There were white particles floating through the water; she realized that they were drowned maggots.

Bracing herself, Tigress jammed the branch between two corpses and proceeded to wriggle the wood between them. Every few moments, the end would meet resistance as it hit another body, but she simply felt around for a gap and kept pushing. After a few minutes- how damn thick was this wall?- the stick stopped hitting other squishy, putrid blockades. If she pushed or pulled on the branch, it slid through easily. It had gone all the way through. The air was quickly depleting from her lungs, so she swam furiously out of the cavern and back up to the surface.

As she waited for her breath to be restored, treading water slowly, Tigress noticed that the water had gotten at least a foot deeper since she had first found the branch. This corpse wall was making the water rise much faster than any dam she had ever seen. It was unnatural. She submerged herself again. Back in the cave, she grabbed the stick and pulled it to her left as hard as she could. The branch was completely waterlogged, but hopefully it should be hold for just a few more seconds...

A hand grabbed her shoulder and roughly tried to pull her away. She elbowed the intruder hard and turned her head to be greeted by the milk-white eyes of a Shui Gui. It had once been a yak, it looked like, its hair flowing around its dead face like rotting seaweed. Her first blow didn't seem to have any effect on the water ghost, so she quickly spun in the water and kicked it away with both feet. It dislodged its grip, and the force she used completed her desired task. A gap opened in the corpse wall, sucking in tonnes of river water through it along with the partly-insubstantial Shui Gui, which gazed hatefully at her as it was sucked through the hole.

Tigress swam as hard as she could, fighting the current as it tore the corpse wall asunder. In seconds it would be gone and she would be sucked through to wherever it led and drown. Beams of misty sunlight illuminated the water in front of her as she exited the cave and just kept swimming. In the murky light, she saw another pair of white eyes being sucked towards her, or rather, towards the disintegrating wall. But it wasn't coming close to her, and besides, she had already made it out. She grabbed the cliff wall and found a foothold, which she used to propel herself up and dig her claws into the wall and quickly climb up.

She found a small overhang that was jutting out of the cliff and pulled herself onto it, looking down at the river as it finished obliterating the blockage and roared through the cave, like a feral beast finally granted freedom. The speed of it was incredible. Debris from wrecked homes, fallen trees and even a few capsized and shattered rowboats flowed through the hole. It was actually quite mesmerizing to watch. So mesmerizing, in fact, that she was completely unprepared for the long, slimy tendril that wrapped around her neck and yanked her off the overhang.

Tigress flashed out her claws and dug them into the stone wall as the pressure around her throat increased. Her attacker was a monstrous creature; it resembled a giant frog covered in black scales that looked somewhat like fangs. Algae and river weeds covered the monster's body, and a pair of glowing red eyes stared into her soul as its long tongue tried to pull her back into the river. She grabbed the tongue and tried to pull it off of her or at least lessen the pressure so it didn't snap her neck, to no avail. With a gasp, Tigress buried her claws into the creature's tongue, twisted them, and ripped part of it clean off.

The monster let out an inhuman roar as black ichor streamed from the wound, spraying her face and clothes with it. It started splashing in a frenzy for a few moments before allowing the river to embrace it. Before it could attack again, Tigress scrambled the rest of the way up the cliff and pulled herself onto the grassy bank, panting hard. What the hell was that thing? She had fought countless demons before, but nothing like that. It didn't look like anything from China or any neighbouring countries.

"That was a Vodyanoi." The voice came from behind her. She jumped back to her feet and spun around, facing the owner of the voice. He was a very short creature, slightly taller than Shifu, but it was impossible to tell what species he was because he was clad in red robes and wore a demonic mask. "A Slavic demon," he continued. "Very old, very powerful. But, apparently I overestimated its abilities, because you're here and not floating lifelessly in the river."

Tigress growled and got into her fighting stance. The robed man laughed. "Please, you think you kill me with fancy techniques and a menacing look? When I play my song, the gods themselves dance. Although, I must admit, that was quite impressive unblocking an entire river by yourself. You know, my frie- um, _accomplice_ put a lot of fucking effort into doing that. You are quite rude to undo it, Master Tigress."

"Anywho, I come in peace. For now. So if you attack me, I will be very angry and will have to bring something more powerful to lay waste to this petty nation. My name is Yāoshén, the god slayer, the hope ender."

"I don't really care who you are," Tigress said. "Why have you come here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Yāoshén said. He stopped and gazed at her expectantly. Tigress raised her eyebrow. The man sighed. "I have come to tell you to fuck off. Simple as that. Do not come here again. This area is none of your concern anymore. I have visited your beloved Master Shifu- an ironic name, I must say- and given him some information regarding a temporary haven for the villagers. Speak with him of it after you have finished fulfilling your heroic duties and protecting the innocent." He said the last few words with a sneer in his voice. "The Master won't wait for you forever."

Tigress had figured this man worked for the Master, but he seemed much different than the other servitors she had met. There wasn't a senseless insanity in his eyes, and he seemed to be more willing to talk and less willing to kill. She knew who he was. "You're the one who sent those Diao si Gui after us." She said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Yāoshén said impatiently. "I wanted to see you die a horrible death. Now go away and help your friends before I stop being so fucking polite. Ta-ta." As soon as he finished saying those words, his body began to dissipate into red smoke, rising towards the azure sky like vapour. Tigress was already running back to Jiang village on all fours. This summoner seemed familiar, somehow although she couldn't place it, as though she had known him in a past life. There wasn't time to dwell on it now. She had to make sure he didn't send any more demons to ravage the village.

It only took Tigress about thirty minutes to reach the Jiang village. Already the water level had gone down a few feet. It might have risen quickly, but it was being drained just as fast without the macabre blockage. She heard flapping overhead and looked up to see Crane veering down towards her.

"Tigress!" he called, landing lightly on the ground beside her. "What did you do to stop the flood? The water's already going down!"

"There was a dam." She responded. "Made of corpses. We were right before; the Master _was_ behind this flood."

"Well," he said, narrowing his eyes and looking closely at her. "What happened to your neck? It's bruised pretty badly."

Tigress suddenly felt a dull, throbbing pain around her neck. "A demon attacked me." She explained. "A Vodyanoi. It paid the price with part of its tongue."

"Never heard of that kind of demon before." Crane said. "I think we got everyone out of the village," he continued, changing the subject. "Po's still in the village looking for any stragglers. But I don't think he'll find any. Those Shui Gui must have taken whoever we missed."

"We don't have to worry about them anymore." Tigress said. From her peripheral village, she saw a large black and white shape leaping across the ruins of the Jiang's resident's former homes. When Po saw them, he changed direction and began to head towards them. Now that the water level had lowered, he was able to use some trees that were still bravely holding out against the river's onslaught as springboards. When he reached the closest tree to their position, he jumped as far as he could and landed on his face right at Tigress's feet.

"Ow." He mumbled. He looked up. "So, lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" He was covered in mud, with scratches across his back and face, slowly oozing blood. "Po, is everyone out of the village?" Tigress asked him. He nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "But man, I fought the weirdest demon ever."

"The Vodyanoi?" Tigress inquired.

"Yeah! That's the one. How'd you know?"

"It attacked me too," she said, pointing at her neck were the bruise was just showing through her orange fur, as though someone had tried to hang her with a noose. Po whistled. "That looks pretty painful. Is it?"

"No." Tigress said. It wasn't that bad with the adrenaline pumping through her veins, which numbed almost all pain she felt. Then she remembered what the red-clad summoner said to her. "We need to get back to Master Shifu," she explained. "Yāoshén- the person who sent the Diao si gui and the Vodyanoi after us- said he paid a visit to him. We have to meet back up with the others and discuss where we're going to evacuate the villagers to now."

Po looked back over to the devastated village. "Yeah, I don't think this place would be really good anymore."

"Master Shifu will know where to bring them." Tigress said. "Come on. Don't forget about Mei Ling and Great Master Viper. The Master's servitors are still after them. We can't waste any more time here."

"Yeah." Crane said. "With that summoner around, they might even be able to send demons there long before the Master's madmen get there."

"Oh yeah," Po said. "Then we should probably get going now."

...

A single, floating eye drifted amongst the foliage, watching the three of them as they walked away. Yāoshén waited until they were out of sight then closed the Eye of Chiyou, sitting back against a rock hidden deeper in the forest. He hoped that Shifu would tell them to bring the people to Taiyang village. It was the only place the Master wouldn't think to go to again, not after his urn had been taken from there. When he took over the madman's cult, he would need subjects, and he couldn't have the God of the Worms eat them all. He rubbed his eyes with a sigh.

"So much work to do..."


	22. When the House Comes Alive

**A/N Hi everyone. Sorry for taking so long to update this story. I can promise that updates will be much, much quicker than they have been as of late. I do believe this may be the longest chapter in the story so far. Also, in the next chapter I will be bringing in OC from Master Merc Black and Red. Thanks to all reviewers and stay tuned for updates. Please R &R.**

Min had no idea what kind of information he'd been hoping to get, but god damn it, this was not it. He had said goodbye to Fēngbào and Shou Ni and departed the office faster than a preacher leaving a whorehouse, a bundle containing ten pounds of raw opium under his arm. He trotted down the hallway, not captivated by the intricate carvings and paintings on the wall anymore. His mind was too preoccupied with the sheer scale of the trouble that was beginning to turn its wrath towards his home.

 _Fuckity-fuck-fuck._ Min thought. _Why do I have the feeling this has something to do with the Secret War? Please, please let this have nothing to do with that. I'm pretty sure Lord Xinheng hasn't forgotten about the promise I made._

This had been the first time Min had thought of that war in twenty years, when its end was marked by the death of the fearsome warlock, Yōulíng. Yōulíng had raised up an army of hellish demons and renegade Yamabushi priests from Japan and tore many villages in China to bloody shreds. Rumours of such bold, brazen attacks should have spread through the country like maggots on a corpse, but there wasn't even a whisper. No, because Lord Xinheng, the man who took up arms against Yōulíng, forced everyone he called to action into secrecy. Only those adept at magic where enlisted, and as such, Min, Fēngbào and Hēi'àn were three of those mages who fought in a war no one would ever know about.

Twenty years ago. He couldn't believe he had allowed these memories to fade away, even though that had been his deepest desire when the war ended. Min remembered the day he had been called to arms, standing before the other occultists and sneering at how pitiful their abilities were compared to his, his brother's, or Fēngbào. The three of them had quickly become something like generals to a ragtag group standing against the ravenous hordes of the Hells. During a final confrontation in a deadly blizzard- Min couldn't remember where it had taken place, other than a mountain- the sable had blasted Yōulíng off a precipice directly into a portal to hell that the mad warlock had opened.

And what reward did all those who fought Yōulíng's armies get after the war was over? Simple. Lord Xinheng executed every last one of them to ensure that they couldn't tell anyone that such a monumental war had been fought right under their noses. It wasn't just the warlock militia he had killed, either- civilians, noblemen, anyone who had heard even remote rumours of the war ended up with no head. The only reason Min and his friends survived was because of the promise he had made to Xinheng. But the same rules applied; any hint of the Secret War, and you suffer a fate that would make even demons blanch.

 _My thoughts are running everywhere,_ Min thought. _Why am I just remembering that war- the best and worst moments of my life, now?_

 _But you know exactly why, don't you, you old bastard? You couldn't possibly think that you would have no negative repercussions from what you did._

Yes, he knew why he was thinking about this war. It was because of Yāoshén. That name meant 'Demon God'. And Min only knew of one person who was so arrogant as to call himself such a name. You guessed it, the mad warlock Yōulíng. He had been able to summon demons from any culture, enslave legions of the hideous beasts, and eventually he got the idea that he was some sort of god. Now there was a mad summoner on the loose who worked with some of the deadliest people China has ever known.

"He couldn't possibly have survived." Min said aloud as he reached the rice paper door that led into the bar and lounge. Behind the door, the sounds of the many different animals conversing hadn't diminished a bit since he had first gotten here. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the scent of opium smoke and myrrh drifting from behind the screen. "He couldn't."

Min slid the door open with his left hand, and was greeting once again by the chaos of the lounge. He was surprised at how many people here liked to drink during the day. _I really am among friends..._ Min looked at the bar, contemplating on whether or not he wanted to join the people drinking there. Then he remembered that an ancient goddess of evil was alive and awake, a cult of madmen were trying to kill his friends, and he had a sudden suspicion that his old enemy might not be as dead as he had presumed. Then he thought, _hell yeah I want a drink._

Min trudged over to the bar, which was being run by a massive gorilla with unusual white fur. The ape eyed him warily as he climbed up onto the stool and slammed a handful of coins on the bar. "Baijiu, please. Cheapest stuff you got."

The gorilla nodded, sweeping up the coins and pocketing them. "That's enough for a bunch of shots, old-timer. You tryin' to kill yourself?"

"I know what I'm doing, Honky Kong." Min growled. "And I don't want shots. I want you to get the biggest glass you have and fill it right to the top with the strongest shit you guys have here."

The gorilla narrowed his eyes at him, then snorted. "Fine. Don't blame me when we have to carry you out of here in a coffin." Then he left to go get Min his drink. While he was gone, the sable turned on the stool to look towards the back of the bar, where the floor was elevated a foot off the ground to make a stage. The leopardesses from the Ladies of the Shade were there, stretching and doing warm-up exercises. Min recalled that they were dancers as well as thieves, a truly deceptive combination. He eyed them appreciatively, admiring their lithe bodies and beautiful white fur. But of course he couldn't tell any of them apart. He leaned back against the bar, continuing to watch them get ready for their performance.

There was a slight tap on the bar behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see Honky Kong setting down a big-ass glass of what Min sometimes called Liquid Death. He nodded his thanks to the white gorilla and turned back around with the drink in his hands. The Ladies of the Shade had finished warming up, and had produced parasols from seemingly nowhere, with almost supernatural deftness.

Min watched them absently as they twirled and leaped over each other on the stage, an expert display of control and grace. But his thoughts had already begun to drift back to the problems at hand. Not even the Ladies of the Shade could distract him. He turned back to the white gorilla, who was serving another customer at the other side of the bar, a muscular looking male tiger. There was something off about this particular feline, and it only took Min a second to figure out what it was.

The tiger's eyes were made out of glass, blankly staring at nothing. He was blind. Him and the gorilla were conversing in low voices, but Min couldn't hear or care less about what they were talking about. He took a long drink from the glass, wincing as the smoky liquor clawed its way down his throat and caught fire in his belly. He really hoped his suspicions proved to be wrong. If Yāoshén was Yōulíng, then he could get Min killed with just a word. _I remember something Yōulíng told me once. 'Knowledge isn't always power'. But if this summoner is really him, then he has the knowledge to end everything. This new life I've built, that we've all built... Lord Xinheng might even kill everyone at the Jade Palace for good measure, just because of my association with them. Oh shit... I wouldn't even put it past him to just make the entire Valley of Peace disappear. He could get away with it, he owns the emperor._

The blind tiger stood up, catching Min's eye for just a second. He realized that where he was looking when he zoned out made it look like he was staring at the feline. "Thank you," he said to the bartender, with a Russian accent, then looked in Min's direction. He had the eerie feeling that this tiger could see him without using his eyes. As Min watched, he turned and slid open the rice paper door that led to Fēngbào's office. The feline walked without a single misstep, and the sable suspected that the cane was only for show. He took another long drink.

"Hi there," a female voice said, scaring the living shit out of Min just as he was lowering the glass from his lips. He spilled a little bit of the baijiu on himself when he jumped. "Holy fuck!" Min exclaimed, all but spinning on his chair to face the speaker. It was one of the Ladies of the Shade, who had just sat down on the barstool next to him. Min forced his racing heart to slow, then gave a forced smile to the leopardess. "Hi," he said.

She smirked. "Did I scare you?"

"No, I just have a habit of yelling 'Holy Fuck' every ten or so minutes." Min responded, and ironically that wasn't entirely a joke. He narrowed his eyes at the Lady. For some reason, she actually looked familiar, despite being identical in appearance to the rest of her crew.

"I saw you speaking with Fēngbào in his office," she said. "My name's Song. I lead the Ladies of the Shade."

Ah, so this was why she looked familiar. Min looked closely and realized how he could tell her apart from the others; she wore a red vest. He had a strange feeling that she knew something about him, something that was a secret. He didn't know where this feeling came from, but it kept him on his toes all the same. "I'm Min." He responded warily. "Beloved healer of the Valley of Peace." He took a long pull from his baijiu, then frowned. "And professional day drinker, it would appear."

He heard her chuckle, and then she turned on the stool so that she was facing the stage. Min followed suit, seeing the Ladies of the Shades minus Song sitting at several tables closest to the stage. "So, did you enjoy the show?" She questioned, and the sable had a feeling that she was stalling. He decided he would play along, despite his growing unease. "Very much so," he said with a grin. "What would bring such an esteemed group of dancers to live and perform in here?"

"Oh, you know." Song said dismissively, "sometimes when you're on the road for a long time, you want to have a rest and regain your bearings. Performing for free is just our way of reciprocation."

She was lying. He looked to her suspiciously, but she had her eyes fixed on her fellow leopardesses. "How do you know Fēngbào?" she asked, turning her light blue eyes towards him. Min shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to tell her the full truth. "Oh, I buy a shit load of opium from him every so often. Very effective painkiller, opium."

"I've seen you before today," Song said, "about a year ago. Before Fēngbào generously let us stay here."

"Do you have any idea how great of a healer I am?" Min said with a laugh, certain that he had never seen her before, not that he would recognize her. " _Everyone_ knows who I am. Everyone in the habit of getting injured or sick, that is."

"It was in a painting that had been made roughly twenty years ago, or so it was written on the back."

Painting? Min frowned. If someone wanted to paint him, then surely they should have seen him immediately after the severe blunt force trauma to the head they must have endured. He wasn't exactly a model worthy of such an honour, and surely if he had inspired a painter they would have told him about it. He laughed out loud. "Trust me miss, I don't think any artist whose brain isn't hemorrhaging would want to capture me with oil and paper."

But Min noticed how intently she was looking at him, to the point where he was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.

"You're the Hell Razer."

Min was shocked to his very core, to the extent that he had no response. How could she possibly know that name? Xinheng made sure that the only living people who knew of it were himself, Fēngbào, and his brother. He let out a forced utterance of laughter, finding his voice at last. "Sorry, you have the wrong person."

"The demon slayer, the warden of the ten hells, none of these ring any bells?" Song pressed on, seeing his obvious reaction. "After what's supposed to have been a most brutal war, surely you would remember."

Min looked to his left, then his right. Nobody was listening, or at least not being conspicuous about it. . This could mean the end of all that he had worked so hard to achieve. "Fuck me," he said, rubbing his eyes in defeat

"I guess no one ever taught you subtlety," she said with a smirk. Of course she would be joking about it, she had no idea the magnitude of which gates she opened. Foolish girl.

"Shut up," he hissed, catching her off guard. "Are you aware that if anyone- _anyone-_ knows the name Hell Razer, then Lord Xinheng will kill me? And Fēngbào. And especially you, since you know this and I failed to keep it a secret?"

She looked taken aback by his sudden change in manners. "Why-" He cut her off with a wave of his hand, looking around the entire lounge. "There," he said, pointing to a table at a secluded corner, far away from would-be eavesdroppers. "We need to speak about this where no one else might hear. You have no idea what the fuck you stumbled into."

Without waiting for her response, Min jumped off the barstool with his drink in his hand, treading over to the table he had pointed out. He pulled out a chair for Song and then himself, across the table. The leopardess took a seat and then raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. He knew that he had scared her with his warning, but he was understating the situation. Yes, if Lord Xinheng knew that she knew everything, he didn't want to imagine what he'd do to everyone involved.

"Tell me everything you know," Min began, "every fucking detail. Where you found that painting, how much you know about the name, and where the fuck it is right now." The deadly serious look in his eyes tipped her off that he wasn't kidding around. She looked away for a moment, then, taking a deep breath, she recounted everything she knew.

"Fine. When we- the Ladies of the Shade- were still led by Su, we stumbled upon a lone traveller, who had been on the road for a long time and was showing signs of severe malnutrition and exhaustion. We gave him food for his journey, we danced for him, and in return he told us about a secret vault filled with a hoard of mythical treasures that were supposed to have supernatural powers. This vault was owned by Lord Xinheng. He gave us a map showing where it was, and told us that it would be impossible for us to get into. So, obviously, that was the first thing we tried."

"And?"

"We got into it without even a little bit of trouble. But it wasn't what we found in there that surprised us, it was what we _didn't_ find. There was no treasure, no jewels, gold, nothing. Just empty cabinets and dressers, until we found the painting hidden in one of the drawers. Because it was relatively new, and none of us had heard of it before, Su assumed that it was worthless. I was entranced by it, I felt as though it had great power within it, and so we took it back to our hideout. On the back of the painting were the words Hell Razer, and then a brief story underneath it explaining how this Hell Razer was the hero of a secret demon war that happened twenty years ago. It mentioned other heroes, but it didn't say you by your real name, Min. I knew that you were the Hell Razer when I saw you in the office earlier."

Min realized that he was taking shallow, fast breaths. Fear, true fear. "What then?"

"Months later, Su got convicted for theft by the Dragon Warrior, and I took her place as the leader. We still used our old hideout for when we were finished travelling and wanted to rest, but when we returned a month later..." she visibly shuddered. Obviously what was coming next was so shocking that she didn't want to talk about it, and if Min and his friend's lives weren't at stake, he would have stopped there, but he couldn't. Before he could press the leopardess further, she continued.

"We found Su. She had been stripped naked, and then skinned alive from the neck down, leaving her face intact so we would recognize her. She was still coherent, and she had three strange symbols carved into her forehead. Her last words when she saw me were..." She shuddered again. "'They're hungry'. I don't know what she meant by that."

"Can you tell me what the symbols looked like?" Min asked, feeling chilled. This didn't sound like anything Lord Xinheng would do. He would never waste perfectly good females that he could put to work in his harems. "Anything that I might be able to recognize?"

"I don't remember," she admitted. "But they weren't Chinese, or any language I recognize. It hurt my eyes to look at them. I thought it was Lord Xinheng, sending a message to not steal from him. But that's not the worst part. After we saw what had happened to Su, we left, hoping that by leaving the painting in our hideout for him to get, we would avoid his wrath. But... a week later, one of our dancers went missing- Nuan was her name. We looked for her, but we couldn't find her. Until we came across her corpse by the roadside a mile down from where we'd first noticed she was missing. She'd... she'd clearly been raped, tortured, and gods, there was so much blood... and she had the same symbols carved on her too, but on her stomach, right above a massive gaping wound that was still dripping blood. Her corpse was fresh; she'd had to have only died a few minutes before."

Min's mouth was dry. He swallowed, failed the first time, and was successful the second. "Did you tell Fēngbào about any of this?" He finally asked. She shook her head. "When I heard that many criminals were disappearing in mysterious ways, I thought Xinheng was cracking down on such activities. We found this inn, and Fēngbào took us in when we told him about the disappearances. In return, we provided entertainment for his patrons, and acted as bodyguards. Since we've been here, no one else has died."

Min sighed. "This wasn't Lord Xinheng's doing" he said "Xinheng would have come here straight away. You said this all happened a year ago, which makes me wonder why he hasn't already. Su and Nuan weren't killed by his assassins, I know that for a fact. If they were, they would simply vanish. The cult that did this- as I can only assume they did- has its sights trained on the Valley of Peace. You heard of the villages disappearing?"

She nodded. "Another reason we went into hiding."

"Well, I know some of the people responsible. And wouldn't you know it, they're basically crazy. No, fuck that, they are madmen in the truest sense of the word. I don't know how many there are, or what their intentions are, but I do know that they are certainly capable of doing what they did to your two friends. Come to think of it, Xinheng's band of criminals would be as well."

"Do you think that Xinheng and this cult you speak of are working together?" Song asked, and the thought of it sent a chill down Min's spine. "I have no idea," he admitted. "But this painting has placed countless lives in danger, and... well, I made a promise to Lord Xinheng twenty years ago. That I would kill anyone who threatened to expose this secret that he had gone through so much to cover up."

Song's eyes widened as she realized what this meant. "But I don't want to," he continued. "Where is this old hideout of yours? If I can destroy the painting, and you never mention any of this again, then that should be enough to stave of Xinheng's wrath."

"The Canyon of Shrieking Winds." she said

"Fuck." Min cursed. "I haven't the slightest idea where that is. Listen, Song, I hate to ask you to do this, but you _have_ to show me where your place is. That is, under the assumption that it hasn't been looted to shit by bandits. It has been abandoned for a year."

"Alright, assuming I should believe this," Song began. "If this painting is so damn important that Xinheng is willing to kill to make sure no one knows about it, and he hasn't come here, then who's to say if he even knows about it going missing?" Song asked. Min hadn't even remotely thought about that. Because it should be obvious.

"He knows. He knows everything that happens in China. For all we're aware, he has men in this tavern right now, listening to us." Min thought back to the blind Russian tiger. Would Lord Xinheng have hired a foreigner to do his dirty work, instead of using his own highly skilled men? "Because, I know you probably think I'm crazy, but if you just take me to the Canyon of Shrieking Winds, I'll make sure nothing leads back to you. If- heavens forbid- Xinheng comes a-knocking, I'll tell him I kept my promise and killed whoever found the painting. If you don't, well... then I'll have to keep my promise. If you really did read about the Secret War, and the demons we fought against, then you'll know that I'm worse than them. Plus, I'll pay you if you take me." He took another long sip. He could tell the thought of being paid had caught her attention.

She didn't really believe that he could kill her, obviously. After all, what was a story without a bit of exaggeration? He held his breath while he waited for her answer, hoping he wouldn't have to kill her.

"Fine," she finally said, to his relief. "I'm not sure if I really believe everthing you say, but I don't want to take chances. Plus, I want to find who killed Nuan and Su and see justice done."

"Thank you," he said. "After I finish my drink, we'll go to the Valley to drop this off," he waved the opium filled bag he carried at her "and then you can take me there. Unless, that is, you want a drink too?"

She shook her head. "I'm not a fan of alcohol."

"Good," Min said. "I wasn't gonna buy you one anyway. Fucking almost getting us killed..."

Suddenly, there was a whistling sound and searing pain in his hand when he lifted the glass up to take another drink. He looked at it, and then to his confusion realized that he was on fire. But, that wasn't the worst part, nope. It could always get worse. The expression on Song's face was one of horror.

"My drink!" Min shouted. "'Where'd my fucking drink go?"

"Min, get down you idiot!" Song yelled, leaping over the table just as the eerie whistling could be heard again. She tackled him to the ground just as a fireball rippled through the air right where his head had been before, extinguishing his burning hand in the process. All at once, the entire lounge erupted into chaos. Song was still laying on top of him, and he realized this a second later and grinned. "Well, I think I'll be paying you for more than just taking me to the Canyon before today is over." She jumped off of him and knocked the table over on its side, forming a barricade.

"Dammit, focus, Min!"

"Oh yeah," he forgot he'd just been attacked. He looked towards the bar and saw what had tried to kill him. A lantern. Yes, a lantern had just tried to murder him. But this one had eyes, and a mouth- well, a hole just below its eyes that was leaking fire. "Well," Min said, causing Song to stare at him with an eyebrow raised. "Looks like Fēngbào made a really, really smart move making sure that everything in this place was fucking antique. Those are Tsukumogami." He peeked over the table. A fireball hit the wood a few inches below his eyes, causing him to yelp and duck back under cover.

"Yup. No doubt about it."

...

Fēngbào stood on his balcony with his pipe sticking out of the corner of his mouth, watching his workers go about their duties harvesting the opium latex. He smiled lightly, marvelling at how far he had come in the past twenty years. He had turned the treasure hoard Xinheng had given him after the war into a well-paying business. The demon attacks that he'd been subject to as of late were far in the back of his mind in peaceful moments like these.

"Do you really think he was telling the truth?"

Fēngbào turned around to see Shou Ni leaning against the doorframe that went back into his office, her blue eyes narrowed. He nodded. "I know what I smelled in that vial. Lamashtu is alive."

Shou Ni padded forward to lean on the balcony railing next to him, staring out into the field. "I know." she said. "But after what he did to the Xīwàng province, how can we know that he's even telling the truth? He could be her servant for all we know."

"No." Fēngbào said, taking a long pull from the opium pipe and blowing a massive cloud of bluish smoke over the railing. "Min is a demon hunter, always was, always will be. You should know this; you and him were together for almost a full year during the war."

She looked away. "I know. But he betrayed us all, and what he did to his brother was unforgivable. It's a no wonder he wants nothing to do with Min, or hell, any of us really."

"That's true." He took another pull. Shou Ni looked at him disapprovingly. "You know, smoking that stuff as much as you do is going to kill you one day."

"I don't smoke that much opium," Fēngbào protested. "Sometimes I drink and inject it!"

She laughed, punching him playfully in the arm. "You know what I mean. That stuff is more destructive than beneficial."

He shrugged. "Well, I think you're probably going to kill me long before it does." Her blue eyes dancing, she moved closer and kissed him on the cheek. "There are worse ways to go." she murmured. Fēngbào nodded, leaning his head into her side. But something in the distance caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes at the horizon. A black speck was flying towards his inn with breakneck speed, well, more like gliding. He looked at Shou Ni but she had already seen it. Her left ear was twitching, and she moved her hand to the chain of her flying guillotine in preparation.

As the figure grew nearer, Fēngbào saw that it was a gyrfalcon, his elegant white plumage speckled with black. The two of them stepped back as the avian lighted down in front of them. He was wearing a messengers bag, from which he pulled out a scroll and handed it to him. "Uh... hi there?" Fēngbào said, cautiously taking the message. The gyrfalcon said simply "It's from Artyom." and then flew off as soon as the scroll was in his hands. "Huh." Shou Ni said. "Weird."

Fēngbào popped the seal off and unrolled the parchment. "Fuck me," he said. His vision was too bad to read letters this small. He felt Shou Ni hand him something, and realized it was his glasses. He smiled gratefully at her then put them on. The Chinese hanzi were poorly drawn, obviously by a foreigner, which didn't make it easier to read.

 _My dear friend Fēngbào,_

 _I am writing you this letter in the hope that you can assist me in this final task. I... am dying from a most incurable disease, and I imagine by the time you get this I will be dead. I have long since made peace with this simple fact, but there is one thing that must be completed before I can ever rest. Please forgive me for dragging you into this, but you are the only person I can trust with this. My son, Viktor... he was murdered._

Fēngbào's eyes widened as he read that last sentence. Last time his friend Artyom had visited, he had brought his son Viktor, who was four years at the time. The little lynx cub had been so sweet and innocent, how could anyone think of harming him? But the letter continued on.

 _Everyone who I used to trust to do such tasks has abandoned me in my hour of need, so I had to find the most reputable bounty hunter I could find to catch the man responsible. The murderer's name is Sârmă of Wallachia. Also called the Puppet Master. The man I hired to hunt him down might not be a bounty hunter anymore, or so he says, but I know I can trust him. His name is Reidak Tor Pre Vizsla III, and I'm sure you'll recognize him at the first sight. He has been hunting the Puppet Master since Vladivostok, and I don't think he's going to give up until Sârmă is dead or behind bars._

 _Because of the fact that you seem to know everything about everything, I thought that I should point him to you for assistance. Please, please, old friend... give him whatever information you can. I ask nothing more from you, nothing that would place your life at risk. But countless people have tried to bring the Puppet Master to justice, to no avail. I have heard many tales of the Vizsla family, and I have faith that if anyone can bring this madman down, it would be him. I beg of you, don't let Viktor's death go unpunished. I only pray that the gods will forgive me for not being strong enough to do it myself._

 _May we meet again in the next life,_

 _Artyom._

Fēngbào felt as though all the blood in his veins had turned to ice. Artyom... was dying? And to have his own son murdered right before he died was unthinkable. He realized that his eyes were filled with tears. He wiped them away and handed the scroll to his wife, who had seen the look on his face and asked what it contained. Shou Ni took the scroll and quickly read through it, not impeded by the handicap of bad vision like he was. The look on her face told him that she had reached the part that informed of Viktor's murder. It only took another few moments for her to read the rest of the letter.

Fēngbào rubbed his eyes, wondering how in the hell all of this could have happened. He felt warm arms wrap around him and looked over his shoulder to see Shou Ni. She kissed him gently, then said "I'm sorry." He stood there in her embrace, grateful for her warmth despite the chain of her weapon pressing into his back. The moment was interrupted by someone knocking at the door. Fēngbào sighed as his wife let go of him so he could open the door.

"Goddamn it, Song. Is Min already shit-faced dru-" He began, but stopped as soon as he opened the door. It wasn't her.

This visitor was a tiger who was so tall he had to crane his neck up just to see his face. The feline had unusually coloured fur- wine-red with a few gray hairs, the only indication that he wasn't as young as he looked. He was dressed in clothes that would probably be normal for a traveller from a different land, and carried a cane. When he saw his face, he realized that the tiger had no eyes- well, at least, not real ones. "-uh, hello there. How can I help you?"

The tiger bowed. "Greetings, Fēngbào." he said. He had a Russian accent, but he spoke Chinese very fluently. "My name is Reidak Tor Pre Vizsla. I was sent-"

"Holy fucking shit!" Fēngbào exclaimed, interrupting him. "No way. I literally _just_ recieved Artyom's letter. How were _you_ faster than someone who could fly?"

Reidak looked a little taken aback. "Um.. I'm not too sure. Glad to see that he informed you I would be coming. I guess that means you know why I'm here."

"Yes, yes. Come on, have a seat." He gestured to a chair to his left and mentally slapped himself for forgetting that he was blind. Reidak simply walked past him and took a seat in the chair he'd pointed to without the slightest bit of difficulty navigating. _Okay, so the blind guy can see. I need to keep that in mind._

"So," Fēngbào said. "Reidak, this is my wife, Shou Ni." He bowed to her in a typical Kung Fu master fashion. "It's nice to meet you." He said to her politely.

"Likewise."

"Alright, let's get down to business. You want to learn about the Puppet Master, right?" Fēngbào said as he poured two glasses of liquor and slid one across the desk towards the bounty hunter.

He nodded. "Yes. Do you know anything about him?" He took a sip of the drink. "This is quite nice," Reidak said, referring to the liquor. "What is it?"

"No clue." Fēngbào responded with a shrug. "I just kind of bought it from some sketchy looking owl and hoped it wasn't poisoned. It's not, or at least, no more than usual."

"More than usual?" the tiger frowned.

"So," Fēngbào said loudly. "Let's not get sidetracked. I'll tell you what you want to know, and if it isn't useful, well, then, let's just hope you find it useful." He took a sip of the unidentified sweet liquor and put another pinch of opium in the bowl of his pipe. "From what I've heard about Sârmă, he is a highly skilled performer and puppeteer. I'm sure you know this. Nobody knows where he was really born, but some theories suggest that he came from a land across the ocean. What is known, however, is that he was raised in Wallachia and makes his puppets based on real people who inspired him. Apparently, he also kills whoever inspires him."

Reidak nodded. "I know this to be true."

"Well, I do know for a fact that he is a white-faced saki monkey, and that he is here in China. Some of my customers saw him perform in the Valley of Peace last night. That's a pretty short walk down the road. But they also said he was gone that night, nowhere to be found."

"I could probably track him, unless if he disguised his scent. He is a very cunning foe, and utterly insane."

Fēngbào shrugged. "Never met the guy, but if he killed little Viktor, then I guess he is."

"Do you know anything else?" Reidak asked, then took a generous pull from the glass.

"No," the dhole said. "I wish I could tell you more, but that really is all I know. But I have to warn you to be careful. The Puppet Master isn't alone. My old friend Min said that a cult of madmen is going around killing people, and I can only assume that Sârmă is connected to this. They have demons on their side, Vizsla. Over the past few weeks they've been sending Diao si gui to attack my inn."

"Hold on," Reidak said. "Demons have been attacking you- _here_ \- and you're still keeping the inn open? Doesn't that seem dangerous to your customers?"

"Oh sure," Fēngbào said. "If you rearrange the words enough, you can make anything sound bad. I've got them covered. You, on the other hand, will be fighting them head-on, in their own turf. If Artyom is willing to place such great trust in you, then I guess that's all I need to know." Fēngbào stood up. He felt a little uneasy with what he was about to do, but he wanted to make sure this feline succeeded in avenging Viktor. He walked over to one of his dressers and slid a drawer open. There it lay, just like it always did. An old relic from the Secret War, that was sitting here collecting dust ever since then. He pulled it out and unsheathed the blade.

"This is the Shinigami," Fēngbào said, holding the katana out. The blade had dark kanji engraved all down the length of the blood groove, and the tsuba depicted a fierce battle between an oni and a gashadakuro. The handle was wrapped in black demon scales, with a menuki carved of the purest silver. It was of dubious origin and make, but it was so beautiful Fēngbào would have given anything for Reidak to have been able to see it. Carefully, he handed it to the tiger who took it with such care it was like he had handed him a baby. "It was made to kill demons. Nobody knows who its original owner was, but its deadliness is legendary. Demons flee at the sight of it. I want you to take it with you, to ensure that you complete your task."

Reidak stood with the blade. He seemed awestruck by it's power; you didn't have to see to feel it. He took an experimental swing with it (Fēngbào noted that he was clearly a skilled swordsman, judging from his stance) and turned back to Fēngbào. "This katana is perfectly balanced." he said, gently feeling the blade with a finger. He hesitated. "Thank you for entrusting me with this."

"Thank you for doing this favour for Artyom." Fēngbào said. "I do expect you to give it back to me after you splatter the Puppet Master from here to Vladivostok, though." He grinned, then handed him the saya, and Reidak sheathed it first try, with no difficulty whatsoever. Fēngbào thought that this strange tiger had to have magical powers. How else would he be able to move as though he could see?

"Why would you give me this?" the tiger finally asked. "If I had a blade like this, I would never let anyone else touch it. Especially not someone I just met."

"Well, I do have a notorious order of thieves protecting my inn, so I guess maybe I'm too trusting. But, like I said before, Artyom trusts you, I trust you. Now you should get-"

Screams echoed from behind the door that led into the lounge. Fēngbào sighed. "I should have told Min he was limited to one drink while he was here. Now he's causing trouble." An inhuman scream echoed from behind the door and Fēngbào drew his gladius. "Nevermind. Demons. No huge difference, though."

...

Min stood up from behind his barricade, feeling a rush of dizziness. He had drank his baijiu so fast that it hit him hard, and what he was doing could barely be called standing. Song had leaped out from behind the table and grabbed a parasol, which he just realized had a bladed rim. _Well that's fucking cool,_ he thought, then a ball of fire from the Tsukumogami whizzed right by his face. He gathered up the wind from it, condensing the element into a ball, and then formed an invisible blade which he threw at the offending demon. He did, however, forget one very important thing.

He was drunk.

The wind blade cleanly missed the lantern, flying past and disintegrating before it could destroy anything else in the inn. Most of the patrons had fled as soon as random objects started coming to life, so they didn't have to worry too much about the crossfire. Min heard movement beside him and turned to see Song and the Ladies of the Shade lined up in a row, their parasol-blades held out in front of them. Now that he had backup, he could get a clearer idea of what he was up against. He spotted six Tsukumogami besides the lantern. He didn't know why they all would have come to life at once, but he felt it was safe to assume that they wanted to kill him.

"Now!" Song shouted, and the Ladies dashed forward with incredible agility, leaping over each other to confuse the demons. One of them lashed out with the blades on her parasol, which was met by an animated sword with glowing red eyes on the hilt. The lantern spat another fireball aimed at Song, but Min reached out with his mind and caught it before it hit her, then threw it back at the demon. _Cursed liquor,_ he thought as the fireball sailed clean past the lantern and hit the wall, extinguishing itself in seconds.

Suddenly Song was beside him, fighting off the sword demon. "Direct hit, Min," she said sarcastically, and he growled. He took a deep breath, visualizing all the energy in the room being sucked towards him, then released it as a shockwave of pure force and will. The lantern Tsukumogami exploded with an unnatural scream along with a chunk of the bar. He turned to see who else needed help, and was met with the floating sword demon flying at his face with intent to kill. Song was running after it with her fangs bared in a snarl. Min tried to dodge the sword, but his body didn't work as it should have and he toppled to the ground, landing on his face.

The Tsukumogami, floating in the air by some unnatural force, wasn't as uncoordinated as Min was and pointed down, then descended. Suddenly the parasol came between it and him and the sword was thrown away with the impact. Song stood above him, swinging her weapon again and driving it back another few feet. Min unsteadily regained his feet, drawing up more wind to throw an invisible blade. Before it even fully manifested, there was a dark red flash and the Tsukumogami fell in half, the blade separated from the hilt, expelling the demon that had animated it.

The blind tiger stood there, holding the beautiful katana that Min knew only too well. "You have the Shinigami!" he shouted, pointing to him. The tiger ignored him and charged towards the next demon. Min, realizing that he had a fully materialized wind blade in his wind, gathered his focus and forced it away, where it sliced an animated paper umbrella in half. The demon wasn't killed by it, but with three quick slashes, the tiger cut it to pieces with the Shinigami katana.

Min wasn't about to be outdone by a blind guy. He charged forward with a roar, towards an old looking bottle Tsukumogami that was floating in the air. It began to glow orange, leaking fire from the hole, and then spun around, spewing flames in every direction. Before he could summon another wind blade, one of the Ladies of the Shade dashed beneath it and shattered it with a punch, covering her in flames. She began screaming a moment later. Min changed his direction and knelt beside her, furiously bashing the flames until they were all out.

When he looked back up, he saw Fēngbào on the other side of the room. Their eyes met, and they both nodded to each other at the same time, unconsciously. Another shattering sound, and a ruined scroll fell down in front of him, smoldering. Song had obviously torn her parasol to shreds in the fight, but the blades were still looking good. Min closed his eyes, channeling all of his power into a ball, and then opened them, looking for his next target. He snarled, then launched it at an animated clock, which shattered into a million pieces with a harsh whining sound.

"I think that's the last of them," the tiger said. As soon as he said that, a strange shape floated out from behind the bar, fluttering in a ghostly manner. It was a disembodied kimono robe, but as he watched, blades began to grow from the sleeves. Before it could attack, Min sucked in a breath and launched a ball of screaming fire at it. It blasted a big hole into it, and fazed out of existence immediately after. There was another eerie scream, the sound of the demon that had possessed it being forced out, and then the ruined kimono fell down, landing on the bar. He did a quick recount in his mind and realized that was all seven of them.

 _Did someone honestly think that some animated tools would pose a threat to anyone here?_ Min wondered. He was truly curious. Normally Tsukumogami were created when an object reached a century in age, but some of these objects didn't look like they were a hundred years old. He frowned. It would appear as though someone had summoned them, but as far as he knew, you couldn't just _summon_ a Tsukumogami.

"Min!" The sable turned to see Fēngbào, Song, Shou Ni, and the blind tiger gathered around in the centre of the room. The Ladies of the Shade had picked up the leopardess who had set herself on fire by destroying the bottle demon, and Min realized that he would have to heal her after he saw what Fēngbào wanted.

"What happened here?" Fēngbào asked, observing the carnage around him. Shockingly enough, the damage actually wasn't that bad. It wouldn't be ridiculously expensive to repair it.

"Tsukumogami." He said. "I don't know how seven of them could have possibly just come to life at the same time. You can't create these things."

"None of them are a hundred years old, either." Fēngbào said, looking at the destroyed objects with suspicion, as though he expected them to come to life any second.

"Do you think whoever sent them is the same person who keeps sending the Diao si gui?" Song asked.

"Obviously." Min said. "But I don't know why they'd waste the effort figuring out a way to summon these things rather that something actually dangerous." He heard a moan behind him, and remembered the severely burned leopardess. "Oh yeah... well, more dangerous, I mean. By the way, do you happen to have any sorts of, uh, medicine? Something good for burns?"

"Yeah, behind the bar." Fēngbào pointed to the general area and elaborated. "We're kind of used to having to treat burns here. You would be shocked."

Min hurried off to find whatever could be used for healing purposes. When he was gone, Fēngbào turned to Song. "What was going on when this all happened?" he asked her. She looked away for a second then back at him. "I was talking to Min. The lantern spat fire and burned his hand."

Fēngbào groaned. "He wasn't hitting on you, was he?" It would be just the kind of thing he would do.

Song looked surprised. "No, of course not. We were talking about... other things."

"What other things?"

"He wanted to know how we learned to dance the way we did."

She was lying, Fēngbào thought, looking her in the eyes. But why? He laughed. "Well, I never took Min for a dancer. Now what were you really talking about?"

Min reappeared beside him then whispered in his ear. "She knows... about the war."

Fēngbào's breath caught in his throat. He looked from him to her and then whispered back. "How?"

"Not important. We will fix it." Min told him. Then, so others could hear him "Alright, Song, after I patch up your friend we'll leave. Is that alright with you?"

She nodded. "Yeah, okay."

Min turned towards the injured Lady of the Shade and stood over her, observing the extent of her injuries. They were quite bad, but nothing lethal. Then again, it would help if he could see straight. "By the way," Min said. "Fēngbào, there's nothing behind the bar but alcohol."

...

Dubaku grew weary of waiting for the gypsy. He could tell his impatience was mirrored by some.

The leopard was pacing back and forth on the dusty ground, a half mile away from their hidden fortress. Shi Renzu was making himself busy chomping down on a piece of meat, probably a leg, and the Puppet Master was tinkering with one of his newer puppets, a tiny lynx cub. Yāoshén sat in the lotus position, in the middle of a circle drawn in blood. "Patience, Dubaku, is a virtue." Yāoshén murmured.

Dubaku stopped and snarled at him. "All the patience in the world will mean nothing if our enemies get to them before we do!"

"Yes," he said. "But we have stalled them effectively by flooding their evacuation zone."

"You did?" Dubaku stared at him with a confused look in his eyes. "How?"

"We used your corpses, of course!" Tabula Rasa's silky voice came from the woods. A second later, she emerged with Mèng beside her, his stitched eyes and mouth twitching.

"You... what?" Dubaku's voice lowered into a dangerous growl. "You destroyed my army!?" With a roar, he pulled out his bone knife and lunged at her, but she deflected him with a mere gesture. The leopard landed on all fours, snarling, his golden fur bristling.

"Peace, witch doctor." Yāoshén said, rising. "The Vodyanoi has ensured your corpses are in perfect condition far downstream. Downstream... where the Valley of Peace gets its clean water from. They will poison the river, and any who drink it. And gives us another point of attack when the time has come. I can assure you, you need not worry."

Dubaku allowed his fur to smooth out and sheathed his knife at his hip, though it clearly took a lot of effort. "Good kitty." Tabula Rasa smirked, making him snarl at her again.

"Damn it, Tabula Rasa, you don't need to antagonize him. We need to leave, now, and if we're lucky we'll be able to kill Mei Ling and Great Master Viper before the Five even arrive to save them. These stones will allow me to summon demons to assist you at your location," He handed a stone to the Puppet Master and to Tabula Rasa but she refused. "Ten mercenaries will be more than enough." She said with a smile. Yāoshén snorted. "Suit yourself. Dubaku, you will meet the Master himself outside of the... area we talked about. Understood?"

"Perfectly." He confirmed.

"And you remember where you and Shi Renzu have to go, correct Sârmă?"

"Yes. I have been ready to leave for a while now." The Puppet Master said.

"And I already know you do," he said to the Gypsy. "Are you sure you don't need any demons?"

"Yes, yes," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "It's like I didn't just get through explaining this."

He sighed. "Fine. Then go. Go now, Children of the Slaughterhouse. Show our enemies the true meaning of agony."


	23. The Last Marauder

**A/N Sorry for the long wait with this chapter, everyone. The OC in this chapter (Ch'rell) belongs to Master Merc Black and Red. I hadn't felt happy with the way I had portrayed him the first time, which resulted in me rewriting large parts of the chapter, and it turned out to be much longer than I thought it was going to be. Since I'm also going to be using one of The Grey Coincidence's OCs in a few chapters, I unfortunately won't be able to take any more into this story. Anywho, thanks for reading and please R &R!**

Tabula Rasa couldn't stand the sunlight ever since that one afternoon two years ago. Her eyes were half-lidded against its glare. She let out a growl, shaking her head as though she could dislodge the rays so easily. When you have seen what the dark truly beheld, when you have gained its wisdom and know it more intimately than yourself, you could only see tragedy and horror in the light. She tried to stay beneath the cool shade of the bamboo, but the undergrowth was so thick that she couldn't stay in there for the whole walk. She was starting to wish she had a carriage.

It had been two hours since she had set out from the hideout, but she wouldn't reach the Lee Da Academy until tonight, if she didn't rest. Tabula Rasa had no intention of travelling there and being too tired to fuck their days up by killing them to the last. Six of the Masters flesh shields- _mercenaries,_ she reminded herself, marched in front of her while the other six marched behind her uniformly. To her right the path fell down into a chasm, but the left was a lush forest of bamboo and shadow.

She sighed, ruefully eyeing the welcoming darkness beneath the canopy, then turned her head to concentrate on the path in front of her and the marching backs of the mercenaries. Tabula Rasa was aware that the men behind her were staring at her, but she ignored them. Normally she would rather they go in front, but if someone attacked their party from behind, it would be beneficial if they cut through the men first, allowing her to use their blood and kill the enemies. _Sometimes violence is the best reward for having to deal with a bunch of perverts._

Tabula Rasa stopped dead, sniffing the air. What was that? For a second she thought she had smelled the scent of another person. The clinking of the mercenaries boots halted behind her, as did the ones up front. Mèng tugged at the waist of her dress.

"I know, Mèng, I smelled it too." Her eyes scanned the horizon down the path, but thanks to the six bundles of walking stupid in front of her she couldn't see past them.

"What is it, Mistress?" a gruff voice asked behind her. She turned around and smiled at the ram- Wan, she remembered his name was. He was giving her a quizzical look, but she didn't feel like telling him the full truth. It would be more interesting to see how things unfolded when they were left to their own devices.

"Someone's coming." Tabula Rasa said. "And not a normal person, either. Hide in the bushes. When they come, ambush them and take everything they have, and bring me a vial of their blood."

...

He saw the ambush coming a long while away, and walked into it without the slightest hesitation.

The hooded wolf tread down the winding path, one side a lush jungle, the other falling down into a rocky valley from which no one could survive if they fell down into it. It was another clear day, which was long overdue since it had been a continuous storm the last week. It had made this journey much harder to complete than was necessary, but he couldn't stop. He felt the energy, the power. What it was, he had no idea, but it called his name, whispering promises that his dream would soon be fulfilled. He didn't really trust the voice, no, but he wanted to at least see where it came from. And how it would help him in the future.

Ch'rell looked up towards the sun, scowling as it beat down upon his scarred face, outlining his shadow for a long distance behind him. Not that it really mattered anymore, since the bandits knew he was here already, but the light was quite an inconvenience for a warrior of the supernatural like himself. He sniffed the air, but besides the sweet scent of flowers and fragrant woods, he couldn't smell anything. These bandits had disguised their scent very well, signifying that they were more experienced than he had originally thought. This entire area seemed drenched in this odd, dark magic that had called him here. He had never felt anything like it. It almost seemed to be conscious, and aware that he was coming.

Gathering his cloak around himself, Ch'rell continued forward. The thoughts of the bandits were pulsing sporadically in the bushes, the only thing giving away what would have been perfect camouflage. A gentle breeze blew, ruffling his cloak and caressing his exposed fur, and he wrapped a hand around the hilt of a single throwing knife that he kept concealed within the folds of his only garment. The bandits were waiting for him to get close enough so they could surround him and prevent him from running away. His lips split open in a malicious grin. Their own stupidity would be a fitting epitaph for their failures.

Six people stepped out of the bushes on his right, forming a line that blocked the road entirely and drew their weapons like they knew how to use them. Judging from their postures and their perfect formation, they clearly were ex-military, or at least had advanced training. He heard footsteps behind him but didn't look back, already aware that the men behind him had mirrored the ones in front.

Ch'rell was surrounded.

One of the soldiers in front of him, probably the leader judging from his voluminous cloak, stepped forward, pointing a repeater crossbow at him. He was a ram, clad in bamboo armour like the rest of them and had a facial expression of misplaced arrogance. "Alright, wolfy," the ram said with a grin. "My name is Wan and I'm going to be taking anything of yours that's valuable. Hand it over and we'll make sure to kill you quickly."

Ch'rell grinned and opened his cloak, revealing that he was nude beneath it. On each of his muscular shoulders were the tattoos of his former clan, an esoteric sigil in the rough shape of a Celtic cross with myriads of twisting patterns. "Does it look like I'm carrying anything?"

Wan clearly hadn't been expecting him to be naked. He stepped back with a disgusted expression on his face. "What the hell?" He shook his head and levelled the repeater forward again. "Why are you- Doesn't matter. That cloak at least looks like it could be worth something. Give it to-"

"I don't have time for this." the black wolf interrupted, dismissively jerking his head to the side. "Move."

"Give me-"

"I SAID MOVE!" Ch'rell grabbed a tiny object in between his fingers the size and shape of a small pebble. He pulled it out of his cloak and flicked it at the ram, which caused the men on either side of him to charge forward. In the same movement, the wolf threw the knife he'd been gripping, hitting the Ender Pearl directly. There was a rending sound, the noise that precedes a ripping of time and space, and he was warped right in front of Wan just as the knife buried itself into the ram's solar plexus, making him fall to his knees with an ear-piercing shriek that made the wolf's blood boil.

Ch'rell grabbed Wan's right horn with both of his hands and planted a foot on his chest, right above where the knife was sticking out. With a grunt of exertion the wolf pulled to the right, ripping the horn and a bloody chunk of meat off with it, baring his fractured skull. He smashed Wan in the face with his own horn with such force that it broke in half, silencing his scream and breaking the sharp point off in his hand. He spun around as he felt movement behind him and saw a leopard sprinting towards him. He sidestepped and held out a foot, tripping the feline and grabbing his ears with one hand before he fell to the ground.

The leopard let out a wail that was cut short by Ch'rell ripping his throat open with the sharp point of Wan's broken horn. He tossed the fractured keratin away and dove to his left as the remaining bandits converged on him. The shadows of the bamboo stalks swirled on the ground as he willed them to, then rose upwards like demonic tendrils. They wrapped themselves around another bandits arms, a goat, and then pulled in opposite directions, tearing both appendages out of his body. The goat screamed in agony and Ch'rell gave him a powerful kick that sent him over the cliff and into the ravine below.

The sounds of the other bandits grew silent for a moment. Ch'rell laughed, turning back towards the nine warriors still standing. Though their expressions were terrified and their legs were visibly trembling, they foolishly held their ground against him. They had sheathed their weapons and pulled out bows, arrows nocked and pointed at his heart. One of them had managed to grab Wan's repeater crossbow and was now holding it towards him, ready to fire.

"Alright, you bastard." The raccoon dog holding the repeater said. He was trying to sound like he wasn't afraid, but there was a tiny quaver in his voice, which would have gone undetected to anyone else. But not to the skyclad wolf he was facing. That fear would be his undoing, both metaphorically and physically. "You can't kill all of us. Just please, give us your cloak, and go."

Ch'rell dug his nails into his palms, drawing blood. He locked his eyes on the raccoon dog, channelling dark magic through his gaze alone. The fool wouldn't know what was coming to him until it was too late. "What's your name, little one?" he growled, as the magic began to take effect. Not enough for the raccoon dog to notice, but that would soon change.

"My..." he appeared confused by the question. "Ji. My name's Ji."

"Ah, good." Ch'rell grinned. The dilation of Ji's pupils was visible. Any second and the Marvel Gaze would tear his mind asunder. He dug further into his palms, allowing more blood to flow. In his mind, he said the incantation.

The repeater crossbow fell to the ground. Ji dropped to his knees, his mouth agape and his eyes wide, the pupils so large that it looked like he was high on mushrooms. "F... Fen..?" He gasped at Ch'rell. He began to crawl towards him on all fours.

"What the fuck's gotten into you, Ji?" one of the other bandits- a rhino- snapped.

"She's here!" Ji said, pointing at Ch'rell. "Can't you see her?" He burst into tears. "Oh, Fen... I've missed you so much..."

Ch'rell assumed that Fen was the raccoon dog's lover who was probably dead, judging from his reaction. Or maybe a sibling? It didn't matter. The wolf swept his gaze over the eight bandits still on their feet, who had arrows pointing at him. "The Marvel Gaze has taken his mind away from him." He said, drawing from the energy of his own blood and preparing to release it. "Envy him- for death will take him unawares." He finished mentally saying the incantation and threw back his cloak. A large, serrated blade materialized in his bloody palm, and then began glowing an incandescent, ominous shade of red. Before anyone could react, Ch'rell dove forward and picked Ji up by the scruff.

He drove the enchanted sword through the raccoon dog's groin, and then carved upwards, toward his collarbone. As the blade cut through his flesh and bone like butter, smoke and fire burst from the wounds. By the time he threw the two halves of Ji's body at the bandits, the remains had been engorged with unnaturally hot flame. Before the burning body parts hit anyone, Ch'rell sprang towards them. The distraction had worked perfectly; they all fired their arrows at him, some of which thudded into the flying corpse, the others cleanly missing both him and the remains.

Ch'rell punched the rhino bandit who had yelled at Ji before in the stomach, then eviscerated him with a swipe of the enchanted sword. His belly was cleanly opened and his intestines fell out to the ground, catching on fire before they hit the dirt. He spun around as another one attempted to load another arrow into his bow and sliced the weapon in half. The magic flames spread to the bow and he threw them away with a yelp- the last sound he ever made. Ch'rell ducked as the bandit blindly threw a punch and then jumped up, grabbing him by the throat and spinning him around as a volley of arrows came from his other side.

There was a scream as the arrows sank into the bandit's chest and head, and then he threw the corpse at the others again. They were used to this sort of distraction by now, but they were still too slow to stand any real chance of working around it. The enchanted sword cut down two more of them before they could even load more arrows, and then the rest caught on that they couldn't hit him. The four remaining bandits dropped their ranged weapons and drew their swords, preparing for one last desperate attack.

They all converged on him at once, seeking to overwhelm him with their numbers. They didn't get very far. Ch'rell stepped to the side, and, to them it would have appeared, vanished into thin air. They all stopped, and the wolf almost laughed at the stupidity on their faces. The trees at the roadside cast a shadow, and when he stepped into it, he merged his body with it and fell into its embrace. He lurked there, looking up at the fools as they struggled to understand what was going on. Sweet black fucking sabbath... why would anyone be normal if they didn't have to be?

"What the fuck just happened?" He heard one of them say, but couldn't see which one. Ch'rell drifted down the shadow of the trunk until he was in the shade of the bushes behind them. "Did he just fucking disappear?" Another said. His tricky magics had all but shattered their morale, he could tell. He smelled their fear, even stronger than the smell of blood and burning flesh. He held the enchanted sword up, so that its glow could be seen from the shadows, and stepped upwards out of the nether and back into reality.

The fiery blade decapitated one of them, and a powerful kick from Ch'rell sent another screaming to his death in the ravine. He severed the weapon arm of one of the surviving two, and then grabbed him by the front of the shirt and threw him into a tree with such force that he heard bones crack. As the last standing bandit spun around, Ch'rell allowed the enchanted sword to dissipate, then grabbed him by the back of the head. He snapped his elbow with his free hand, eliciting yet another cry of pain, and then dragged him over to the bandit who was sitting against the tree he'd thrown him against, breathing laboriously.

The wolf picked up the sitting bandit and pinned him up against the trunk, then, with a roar, smashed the other struggling person's face into his head, once, again then again. He released his grip and the animal's lifeless body slid back down the tree trunk into the sitting position he'd been in before, his skull terribly dented. The bark was stained with his blood.

Now for the last one. Ch'rell turned his head and saw that the bandit he was holding by the head was unconscious, probably mortally injured. He sank his fangs into the final bandit's throat with a lustful growl, tasting the intoxicating saltiness of his blood. After a minute- or maybe an hour, he lost track of time- he opened his jaws and let the corpse fall to the ground, drained of every last vital drop of blood. His jet-black fur was glistening and tinted faintly red from his jaws down to the base of his chest. He snorted. Longest he'd been delayed on his journey so far.

"Now, now, is this _really_ necessary?"

The female voice was so unexpected it caused Ch'rell to drop the dead bandit and spin around, calling the enchanted blade to his hand once more. What he saw made him lower his weapon hand and grin. "Why, hello there." He said. Leaning against a trunk- the same tree where he'd killed the man with another man- was a beautiful she-wolf. She was an albino, with piercing red eyes and fur that was blindingly white, even in the shade. She wore a red dress that hugged her curves and a darker crimson bolero jacket that hid her arms. A permanent semi-smirk was on her face. As he stared at her, there was movement behind her and a rabbit child stepped out, staring blankly at him. The child's eyes and lips were stitched shut, and he wore the garb of a Chinese peasant. The black wolf had the strange feeling that the child could see into his mind. He stilled his thoughts, just in case this feeling was true.

"And who, might I ask, are you?" She questioned, her voice almost like a purr. Ch'rell had a sense, like the lightest touch of a finger, to not take her lightly. She didn't look impressed in the very least by the fact that he was surrounded by savaged corpses and wielding a massive, glowing serrated blade. The black wolf gestured in the direction he was going.

"A traveller, of sorts. You can call me Ch'rell, the King of Pain. As much as I would like to stay and chat- maybe a little more- with you, I'm in kind of a hurry."

The she-wolf looked him up and down with an amused expression in her red eyes. Ch'rell realized that the front of his cloak was blowing slightly open in the wind, exposing himself to her. He paid it no heed.

"Why? Are you searching for a clothing merchant?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He growled, to which she was supremely undaunted by.

"What I'm looking for is none of your concern."

"Oh I think it is." She narrowed her eyes and took a step towards him. "My name is Tabula Rasa. These men you killed worked under me. It was by my orders that they attack you. Why, I won't tell you. However, I must say, for a random naked man walking down a road, your fighting skills are quite impressive."

"Well," Ch'rell said, slightly raising his blade in preparation. "thank you. But I am going to continue my journey unimpeded. Don't get in my way again." He turned back and began padding away from the she-wolf, still holding the Enchanted Sword in his right hand. His ears were pricked beneath his hood for her inevitable attack.

"You feel their power, don't you, Ch'rell?" Tabula Rasa asked. He stopped dead, feeling a brief chill run through him. How could this she-wolf have possibly known that? By his hesitation, he had already given her an answer. There was no point in leaving now, at least not after he heard her out.

"Oh yes... you don't need to say anything." He heard her pawsteps, much lighter than his own, behind him. "It beckons to you, doesn't it? The dark, primeval energies that lurk in the lands nearby. They have promised you your darkest, innermost desires, yes?"

Taking a deep breath, the nude wolf turned back around to face the she-wolf, who was smiling, her red eyes glinting in the sun. He glowered at her, and she laughed, not intimidated by the fact he was over a foot and a half taller than her. She almost had to crane her neck up to look him in the eye.

"You seem familiar with it." Ch'rell said. "so I would think it's redundant of you to ask."

"Just making sure that I had the right impression of you." Tabula Rasa said, rolling her eyes. "You know, someone with your powers would be invaluable to us."

" _Us?_ " Ch'rell said. "It looks to me like all of your men conveniently happened to have tragic heart attacks within mere moments of each other. Never seen anything like it before. In other words, it looks like it's just you now." He didn't look at the mutilated corpses around him.

"Do you think this is funny?" she said, her voice dropping to a decibel above a whisper. "Do you think I am going to let you go unpunished from this? You have set me back at least a few minutes, which could be the difference between victory and defeat."

Magic was stirring. Ch'rell knew that, he could practically taste it in the air. But it wasn't the same energy as what drew him here. He kept still, eyes locked on the she-wolf to see what she was doing to summon this power. She was as still as he was, no longer speaking. The child beside her wasn't there anymore, and that unnerved him. Nothing was creepier than a kid with his fucking eyes and lips sewn shut. He felt a slight disturbance at his feet, and cast his eyes downward without moving his head. The blood of the recent dead was _moving._ It was as though it were being leeched out of the sand and then oozing slowly towards her, leaving not even a drop to stain the earth. What sort of magic was this? He almost wanted to wait and see what would happen, but that would be downright stupid.

"What do you know about this?" Ch'rell said. "I know this power is coming from you, witch. I think it would make both of our lives easier if you told me what you knew about it. No need for any more bloodshed." He felt a pang in his heart saying those final few words. Who knew, it still might end in more violence.

"Who knows?" The she-wolf's grin had a sinister quality. Anyone who smiled as much as she did was bound to be completely insane. "Maybe I'm just their servitor. Maybe I _am_ them."

"Them?" The blood was getting closer to her. He still held the Enchanted Sword, and he was probably going to have to use it again. He'd never seen a magic like this, that could draw blood towards her from a distance. She must use a similar kind of dark arts that he did. Whatever it was, it was dark to its very core, and yet completely different than the power that had drawn him here.

"Yes. Those Without Names. They speak to those who have power, will, and desire. Did they promise you the same things as they promised me?"

Ch'rell had grown weary of the she-wolf's cryptic manner of speaking and her beautiful, chilling smile. "My patience is about spent, witch." he growled. "Don't think your good looks are enough to stop me from replacing my cloak with your flayed hide."

"Likewise." she laughed, spreading her arms. "Come then, King of Pain... show me if you are truly worthy of learning the darkest secrets of the Ancients."

In the blink of an eye, the skyclad wolf's hand flashed beneath his cloak, pulling out a throwing knife and sending it flying towards the gypsy's heart.

There was an odd disturbance in the air as dark energy was sucked out of the earth itself, followed by a squelching sound. A flash of liquid red shot up from the dirt between him and her, and suddenly the black wolf's vision of the witch was completely shrouded. "What... the... fuck?" he said, his voice ironically calm. His throwing knife was buried in the red wall, the hilt still quivering from the force with which he'd launched it. A dream-catcher of weblike cracks radiated from around the blade as though he had thrown it into a wall of glass.

His instinct was what saved him from severe injury or possibly death after her counterattack. The red wall began glowing, incandescent, seeming to ooze down as it heated up. A sudden thought flashed in his mind in the second before he forced the shadows to pull him away to safety. _The wall is made out of crystallized blood. She is a hemomancer!_

The shadows yanked him out of the way as the wall turned into a river of boiling, sanguine death, floating through the air like a demon impersonating a wingless Chinese dragon. Thanks to his quick reflexes, the attack cleanly missed him and he was able to dash through the undergrowth. Still partly bonded to the shadows, he sprinted through the undergrowth without disturbing a single leaf. In the next second, he leaped out of the forest towards the she-wolf, the Enchanted Sword roaring to match his own howl.

Tabula Rasa spun around to face him, drawing the burning river back through the air towards him. She was too slow. His blade would cut her apart as she burned to death from the searing magics of his weapon. The black wolf was a little unnerved to see how she still was completely unafraid despite the fact he was less than two feet away and growing closer, the heat of the Enchanted Sword no doubt becoming unbearable in its proximity

Ch'rell realized a second too late that he had underestimated his opponent. The eerie sound- a combination of whistling and boiling, as though someone was making tea out of the souls of the dishonoured dead- was the only hint he had before the sanguine firestorm hit him. He howled in pain as the boiling blood knocked him off course, his fiery blade passing mere centimetres from Tabula Rasa's smirking face.

He reached into his cloak to grab an Ender Pearl, his best bet for avoiding any more serious damage. He spun in midair and threw it as he felt the bloody river completely engulf him. Pain, real pain engorged his entire body when the blood washed around him. The last thing the skyclad wolf saw before the oozing conflagration covered his vision was the tiny, greenish-blue marble striking the weapon of a dead bandit laying on the ground.

In a flash, the pain was reduced and Ch'rell was standing behind Tabula Rasa. He hadn't let go of the Enchanted Sword, even as her hellish attack had burned his fur and flesh. He had no time to check to see how badly his injuries were, and besides, he would be healed soon anyways. As she began turning her head as though in slow motion, her eyes widening slightly, he leaped ten feet into the air towards her. As he descended towards her, Ch'rell pulled two throwing knives with his one hand and threw them with deadly accuracy.

Tabula Rasa's expression only had a miniscule amount of shock written in it, but it was enough to tell him that she was capable of fear as well. If his attack didn't kill her, he thought in the split seconds before the knives made contact, then he would destroy her mind, piece by piece, and leave her body to rot in the canyon with those mercenaries of hers.

The speed of her defence was astonishing; a small stream of blood flew through the air like the tendril of some nightmarish sea monster and then crystallized, causing his throwing knives to thud harmlessly into the red ice. Ch'rell buried his glowing blade into the tendril, making it sizzle and spit, the ice crystals that it was composed of melting, dripping to the ground but evaporating from the indescribable heat of the Enchanted Sword. While his one hand was occupied with the blood shield, he lashed out with his free paw, slashing the she-wolf across the cheek and drawing a faint trickle of blood.

"Yes..." he snarled, knowing what fate awaited her. His curse had been delivered, and now her suffering was only just beginning. She laughed, a beautifully terrible sound, which, combined with the blood trickling down her cheek, gave her a rather menacing countenance. "Prepare to die, witch." he said, then thrust his hand out again, preparing to grab her throat and either crush it or just tear it out.

Just as the fingers on his left hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed, more blood- from the dead and from the cuts on her cheek- began flowing, engulfing his hand just as he began applying pressure to her neck. It was warmer than it should have been considering it had just been boiling hot and then frozen solid, but its scent made his nostrils flare in unholy hunger. He snarled again, low and deep, saliva dripping from his fangs and falling to the stained ground, when he felt the blood that cocooned his hand grow cold. Within a few short seconds, it had become as frigid as ice, completely immobilizing his hand. He tried to bring the Enchanted Sword down with his other hand to finish her, but he found to his dismay that frozen blood now had his other arm trapped. More crimson liquid floated through the air, freezing his arms and legs into place. With an almost angry sounding hiss, his burning blade sputtered out and vanished into the air, and now he had no weapons within reach and couldn't move his arms and legs.

"I can see that you weren't expecting such a turn of events, Ch'rell." Tabula Rasa murmured, stepping closer. "You thought you could defeat me, yes? I imagine you are quite disappointed." Slowly, she raised her hand and traced a claw down his collarbone, digging it in slightly deeper the further down she went. He realized that her claws were much longer and sharper than a wolf's should be. He snarled at her, again, not feeling her claws pierce through his fur and flesh. She was smiling, but there was little malice in her gaze.

"You know, perhaps you could prove useful to us." she repeated. "It would be interesting, to say the least, what the Master could promise you. I would like to see if you are as brave standing before the Lord of the Slaughterhouse as you are with me. But, alas, you appear to be frozen in ice." Tabula Rasa took her finger away from his bare chest and licked the blood off of it. Her eyes widened. "What...?" She took a step back and licked her lips. "What are you?" she asked him, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Are you one of Yāoshén's demons? I told him to not send me any!"

"What the fuck is a Yāoshén?" Ch'rell narrowed his eyes. "Stop playing games with me, witch." He just had to let her go on what would probably be a long, stereotypical villains rant and her attention would be taken off of him. He turned his eyes upwards, wincing against the suns rays. It wasn't a full moon; he wouldn't be as strong as he could be, but it would still be enough to shatter her petty walls of bloody ice. He closed his eyes and coaxed the beast within to the surface. It was hesitant, clearly tentative about coming out into the sun, but it heeded his calls. He felt it rise beneath his skin and fur, almost like his blood was heating up, and welcomed the fire. It would burn her to ashes, just as it had countless times in ages past.

"You are a demon." the she-wolf growled. Her smirk was gone, the first time that she didn't have at least a partial smile since he had met her. "Your blood has power in it. Dark power."

"Ah, but demons can only do so much." Now Ch'rell was the one who was grinning. The pain of the transformation would soon be upon him. "They might kill, maim, destroy an individual physically, mentally, and spiritually, but me... well, I'm worse. Goodbye, Tabula Rasa." He laughed, feeling the beast rise to the surface. He heard his bones crack as they broke and fixed themselves, becoming longer and strong as steel. His skin stretched, his muscles tore, but the pain was intoxicating. To him, the agony was the herald of blood, of death, of the screams of Catholics as he ripped them apart limb from limb. To Tabula Rasa, the last sight she would ever see was his body seemingly stretching and mutating, before he killed her. The blood-ice shattered, freeing him, but he didn't move, wouldn't move, until she saw his true power.

"Hmmm, no," Tabula Rasa said. "I don't think I want you doing that." She waved her hand, and what happened next was unlike anything Ch'rell had experienced before

The pain was increased a million fold, as his bones broke down back into the size they were before. He howled in agony, mimicking the enraged cries of the demon that was just denied its freedom. He fell to his knees, clutching his head. His muscles, which had been in the process of being torn to be remade anew, stopped their evolution and began turning back to their original mortal state. " _No!"_ He roared. " _No!"_

"Interesting," he heard Tabula Rasa say. "You aren't a demon... but you have demon blood. How is that possible, my new friend?"

He glared wordlessly up at her with a feral snarl, to which she frowned. "And you are rather unfriendly. Given the events of the last ten minutes, who could really blame you?"

So, somehow this witch was able to stop him from changing. Ch'rell had no idea how she could do this- he had never met anyone who could stop him from changing- but it was a safe bet that she could also prevent the same curse from befalling her. Now that he knew this, he could make another plan to defeat her. He kept his eyes and face blank so as not to tip her off to his idea. He could take an injury that would be fatal to anything else, thanks to his Medal of Life, but the fact that he even needed to think of an elaborate strategy to take down Tabula Rasa made his blood flow in anticipation. Since his awakening, he had yet to encounter an enemy truly worthy of being killed by him.

Ch'rell allowed his cloak to cover his shoulders again, covering himself and his numerous artifacts that he had concealed under it. He stood up to his full height and met the eyes of the witch evenly, awaiting for an opportunity.

...

Tabula Rasa looked thoughtfully at the skyclad wolf, who had allowed his cloak to cover himself again. He was staring at her, his eyes now completely focused but unreadable. She suspected that he had more tricks- he had to, or else he wouldn't have heard the call- but now she was curious to see what else he could do. She had tasted his blood; so she could control him and where his blows would land, but he didn't know that. She also positioned herself away from the trees or anything else that could cast a shadow to use against her. Her own shadow was immune to being controlled, thanks to the worms, or it should be at least. It would appear that the battle was hers, but she couldn't get overconfident yet. If they had called him, then she would have to be on her guard.

"So," she said, putting on her signature smirk. "Are you going to answer my question or not? How do you have demon blood in your veins?"

Ch'rell's eyes locked on hers, seeming to look through them and into her soul. "The Devil gives me power," he said, emotionlessly.

"The Devil?" Tabula Rasa laughed. "And here I was, thinking that you were strong enough to not need help from gods or demons. I am disappointed. I suppose that gives me my answer."

She focused her mental powers, causing the blood to float off of the ground again. She formed it into a spike and crystallized it in a fraction of a second, then sent it flying like a cannonball towards her adversary. The blood-spike hit him directly in the heart with such force that it sent him flying over the side of the cliff with a yelp. He flew into the ravine, spinning rapidly as the spike was reverted back into a liquid state of being. Tabula Rasa listened for the thud of his body hitting the ground, but heard nothing.

Warily, she allowed more blood to float off of the ground and swirl around her as she approached the precipice and looked down. There were a couple of her men that Ch'rell had thrown into the ravine, but the black wolf was absent. _Behind you,_ a sudden voice whispered in her mind. She spun around just as Ch'rell came at her with a throwing knife in his hand. He tried to slash her throat, and only by misdirecting his blow with a crystalline spike was she able to avoid having her neck sliced open. The knife cut a shallow wound along her collarbone, and there was a wailing hiss as his glowing blade burst into life again.

He slashed at her repeatedly, aiming for vital arteries with the fiery sword, but now that she knew he was attacking, he couldn't hit her. By taking his blood into her system, his fate was in her hands. You wouldn't know from how fucking hot his sword was as it burned her hands and arms by coming close to it. She hardly had to put any physical effort into her defence; throwing small blood-shields to absorb Ch'rell's relentless attacks and occasionally stepping back to avoid a broad sweeping blow. Without warning, the black wolf leaped backwards, executing a perfect backflip, and the glowing red sword vanished from his hands.

He held up the knife that he had slashed her with- she had assumed that he'd dropped it- and grinned. The knife was still dripping with her blood, and as she watched, he pulled out a small object. She frowned when she realized that it was a doll, woven from what appeared to be burlap. "Is this really a good time to play with dolls?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Ch'rell ignored her smartass response. "You aren't the only one who can control an enemy by using their blood." he said, seeing her smile return as he figured it out. "Did you think I was unaware that you were controlling me?" he asked. "I certainly hope not. Now, we are on even ground." In a single movement, he wiped her blood from the knife onto the doll and held it up so she could see it. Tabula Rasa recognized this type of sympathetic magic. _You had better not fail me now, Ancient Ones,_ she thought darkly as the black wolf drove the knife into the doll's stomach.

There was a twinge of pain in her stomach, the same place Ch'rell had stabbed the poppet, but it was gone in an instant as the ancient magic of the worms shielded her. Her smile grew. That was some powerful magic that he had used there. Normally, any magic used against one of the worm's disciples wouldn't have any effect, but his sympathetic magic wasn't entirely stopped. She had felt it, but the pain had been driven off. She could almost see Ch'rell's jaw physically drop at her lack of a response to theoretically being stabbed in the stomach.

He stabbed the doll again, this time in the head. She felt the pain again, but lighter this time as the dark magic that flowed within her adapted to this strange energy. "Your magic can't affect me, Ch'rell." she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mèng shuffle out of the undergrowth. She knew that he was reminding her of their time-sensitive mission, but she was already aware. She shook her head slightly at him to warn him off, and turned back to the black wolf. "I'm glad that you took the time out of your day to fight me," she said. "But I'm starting to run a bit low on time, so would you mind if we finished this battle up quickly?"

"Happily." Ch'rell said coldly, recovering from the shock of his magic not affecting her. He pulled something else out from his cloak, and Tabula Rasa saw that it was small enough for him to hold concealed in his fist. _Is it another one of those pebbles that allow him to teleport?_ She thought, but silenced it. He wouldn't use something that she was already prepared to counter. So that meant to expect anything. He threw whatever it was in his hand into his mouth and swallowed it. "My magic might not be able to affect you," he said, as his glowing red sword materialized slowly in his hand again, "but it can still affect me." He roared, and then sprinted at her on all fours with such speed she was barely able to throw up a blood wall to impede him. He threw a punch at it, shattering the red ice and leaping at her again. Tabula Rasa leaped out of the way, but whatever kind of elixir he had just taken hadn't degenerated his agility in the slightest. He reached out for her with the glowing blade, which passed by her ear with a hiss and a flash of heat, and landed on his feet.

Tabula Rasa caused the blood swirling around her to disperse into a red mist just as he spun around and prepared to attack her again. Gathering up her energy, she felt the air crackle around her and saw sparks bursting from her fingers. She released the electricity as a lightning bolt which danced between the floating blood droplets, creating an artificial lightning storm. Ch'rell had no fear of the electricity, and charged through the mist without hesitation. She saw his muscles convulse as he stormed through, but it didn't even slow him down.

 _Perfect,_ she thought, grinning. _The Master will be most pleased._

The blade came flying towards her at the speed of sound, which she actually had to leap out of the way to avoid. She landed on her side and rolled back to her feet to see Ch'rell coming at her again. She cast a split-second look at the position of the sun and thought; _it's getting late. I need to keep going if I am to get to Lee Da Academy before the Five do._ Gathering up her energy for one last attack, she met Ch'rell's eyes a split second before she caused the bloody mist to crystallize into razor-sharp shrapnel and fire at him like a storm of grapeshot. He was knocked backwards as he came within a couple of feet of her, rolling over several times to land on his feet.

His body was peppered with tiny wounds from the ice shrapnel that she had launched at him, but if anything he looked more invigorated. Both of them were panting from the exertion, but she could see that Ch'rell was still ready to fight. Excellent. He just proved her point again. He raised the incandescent sword one more time, but Tabula Rasa stopped him by simply raising her hand. "Stop." she said. "It's a waste of time to keep fighting like this, when it's obvious that we are evenly matched. So why don't you banish that sword of yours and hear me out?"

Ch'rell growled, but his blade didn't disperse. His eyes, given an ominous glow from the flames of his sword, were locked on hers. "Why would I do that?"

Tabula Rasa rolled her eyes. "Don't act like a fool, Ch'rell. You were drawn here by Those Without Names, just as I was, just as all of the disciples were. They called you for a reason, my new friend, and I can assure you that you qualify for the position."

His blade sputtered out in an instant, and he stood up to his full height. Tabula Rasa walked towards him, slightly wary in case he attacked her again. "You can join us, and be given control of the power that drew you here. It can grant you every desire you could even imagine, even the most obscure of dreams. The Master is certain to welcome you into our order." She stopped a few feet in front of him, watching him carefully. He narrowed his eyes down at her.

"And what's the catch, witch?"

"If you have any intention of joining our cult, then you will call me by my name. Tabula Rasa. And what makes you think there even is a catch?"

Ch'rell gave her an odd look, to which she rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I knew you would ask that. All you have to do..." she looked up at the sky. They had to get moving immediately, or else they might be late. "Is join Mèng and I on our task. Before you ask, that 'task' is to travel to a Kung Fu academy and massacre everyone within, and bring back one select individual to our hideout. Since you killed my mercenaries, another warrior would be quite helpful, especially one that possesses skills like yours. After, the Master will bring us back, and then you will be revealed all the secrets that you so desire."

"And why should I believe a word you say, Tabula Rasa?" Ch'rell asked, his eyes momentarily shifting as Mèng emerged fully from the bushes to stand beside her.

"Because," she said. "Our desires are the same. So, my new friend, what do you say?" She stepped closer and held out a hand for him. He looked at it for a moment and then grasped it with his own. His paw was almost twice the size of hers. "Alright," he said. "I'll help you out. But if you are lying to me, then I will make sure you suffer."

Tabula Rasa smiled. "Excellent. Now lets get moving."


	24. Omens of War

**A/N Hi everyone. First off, I'd like to apologize for how few and far between updates have been coming for this story. There's been a lot of shit going on in my life this year, and so as a result, I've hardly been writing at all. But I'm back now, and I'd like to thank everyone who stuck with this story for so long despite everything. A special thanks to Master Fearless Shadow and Master Merc Black and Red, who made an awesome cover photo of the Master for this story and for contributing their OCs. And to the Grey Coincidence, whose OC I will be bringing into the story in a couple of chapters. As always, thanks to everyone who followed, favourited, and reviewed this story. R &R!**

Night fell on the earth with a haste and depth that seemed unnatural for this time of year. The moon was absent from the sky, and though the two of them had set up a fire, its dancing light did little to ward off the encroaching darkness. Po had been the one to suggest setting camp for the night while Crane flew on ahead to Lee Da Academy to warn them of what would come. After returning to the palace from Jiang village, and then travelling the rest of the day with the panda, there was little room in Tigress for complaint. Since the strange seizure she had experienced in Jiang, a lingering exhaustion had gripped her since then, although it had eased since earlier in the day.

Now, as she stoked the fire, her mind drifted elsewhere. Shifu had ordered them all to go to Lee Da Academy and the Dúshé village, where Viper had grown up and where her father still ruled. Tigress, Po, and Crane formed the Lee Da party while the other three went to Great Master Viper's aid. Master Shifu had evacuated all servants and guards from the Jade Palace, and had personally escorted all of them, including the villagers of the Valley and Jiang to the derelict Taiyang. Tigress felt another stab of frustration at the fact that her master had followed the words of the summoner, who worked for the same people who had killed countless innocents, and almost slew her and Po.

"So... what's got you looking so angry?" Po asked. She realized she must have been visibly scowling into the fire. She looked up at the giant panda, who was heating some noodles with a crudely made tripod and a pot he had brought with him. "You know." Tigress stated simply. And he did, she could see. The panda always did seem to have an almost psychic sense of empathy. Plus, she did tell him her opinion on Shifu's course of action as they walked here from the palace. It was one of the longest speeches she could remember giving.

And Min... The six of them had visited his shop on their way out of the Valley to pick up some healing herbs, but the sable was absent. The 'be back soon' sign had hung lopsidedly on the door, as though the sable had been in a hurry when he'd left. There were no other messages, no hidden letters saying why he left before the evacuation of the Valley commenced. Tigress had been confused at first, but then remembered that Min had said he would try to find out more about the Water and the demon living within it. He had stressed the danger of their predicaments, and if he left his shop suddenly, with no notice, it must be even worse than he said it was. She felt the presence of the Water like dark, alien energy within her veins, whispering secrets not meant for mortal ears.

"Yeah," Po said. "I guess I do." He turned his attention from the noodles to her. "I don't like it either. I think it was a bad move to follow the summoner's advice. But... Shifu does have a point."

"How?" She demanded. "Yāoshén works with the those who may very well be our most dangerous foes we have ever encountered. We can't trust him with the safety of the villagers lives. He's sent several different kinds of demons after us, and I'm almost certain he was the one who flooded Jiang village. Listening to him will lead us only to ruin."

"You're right." Po turned to the pot and stirred it, more out of habit than necessity. "But think about it. All the villages that were destroyed were in a straight path, on one road. They're methodical, like Shifu said, and Taiyang is way out of that path. I'm sure you know what's next in the road."

Tigress said nothing. Their enemies trail was clearly marked with slaughter, and the Valley of Peace was the next point in their warpath. "They've proven themselves to be unpredictable." she responded. "This is more likely a diversion to draw us away from the villagers. Only Shifu and a few guards are protecting hundreds of people going to a place that I'm sure the Master knows about. Even one of the Master's dark five can kill dozens before Shifu could navigate through the chaos. We should have sent them to Gongmen. It might be a longer journey, but it would be assured safety for them, and it's much further out of the way than Taiyang for the cult."

"But not all of them could make it that far." Po protested. "A lot of them are too old to walk that far, and bringing wagons would be impossible with the land they'd have to get through."

Tigress sighed, rubbing her forehead and staring into the fire. The Master really did have them up against the wall. There truly was no way of telling what he'd do next. But she knew that she couldn't disobey Shifu again.

"I suppose we will have to trust his judgment," Tigress said, sighing deeply. Po was silent. He just stared at her face as she looked into the dancing flames, the firelight casting her features in a shadowy veil. He checked the noodles again. Yup, two seconds since he last checked and they still weren't ready. His stomach growled, and he hoped Tigress hadn't heard it. He leaned back and lay down on the grass, training his eyes up to the stars. There were only a few of the silvery lights visible in the sky. He had the unsettling feeling that they were just some more casualties of the spreading darkness.

"Po," Tigress began. "I realize that I haven't thanked you yet. For saving my life." Po sat up. Tigress was staring at him, her expression unreadable.

"No need to," he said. "I'm sure you would have done the same for me. Way of the fist and all that, right?"

"I would have," she said. "But instead I left you alone, abandoning you..." Tigress closed her eyes. "I fled like a coward, and the burden of what you suffered as the Master's prisoner rests on me. Abandoning your friends isn't part of our creed as warriors."

"You would have died!" Po protested. "Even Min said so! And he's the best healer in the province. Besides, I'm fine now, you're fine, and pretty soon we're gonna throw these guys to the freakin' sun and back."

"It was because of my hubris, my recklessness, that Sârmă beat us." There was real pain in her voice, a slight quiver that didn't go unnoticed by the giant panda. "Don't let your overconfidence do the same thing. We underestimated the Puppet Master and his allies once, but no more. If we do it again, we won't be as lucky as we were the last time. I cannot allow you to be lost to us again like we all thought you were so many times in the past."

Po didn't know what to say to her. He stood up and crossed to the other side of the fire and sat down next to her. He put his arm around her, and to his surprise, she didn't pull away. "I'm sorry," she whispered. The panda looked at her and saw that there was a single tear forming at the corner of her eye. She wiped it away and donned her normal, stoic facial expression again. "We need to set out before the sun rises tomorrow. No one else will die at the hands of the Master if we can do something about it. And Po... thank you for being such a good friend."

Po grinned and drew her close. He never thought he'd hear the legendary Master Tigress be so emotional. He remembered how, just a few short years ago, the Furious Five had utterly despised him, Tigress most of all, who had been his favorite. It had hurt, hurt really bad, and he was sure it was just as bad for her, having what she had surely thought was her destiny stolen from her. How far they had come to be sitting next to each other as friends and comrades of mutual respect. "Thanks for being my friend in the first place." He said, and then remembered something of the utmost importance in the fire.

"Oh hey, look, dinner's ready." He had forgotten about the noodles, and so he quickly took the pot off of the fire and poured a generous amount in the two bowls he had set out earlier. He gave one to her and she accepted it with a grateful smile. Po took a great slurp from the bowl and nodded appreciatively. "Man, that's good." and Tigress gave a murmur of agreement. Together they sat there in silence, eating their dinner and looking up at the stars while the fire crackled and hissed before them.

Though he enjoyed the closeness he shared with the feline right now, his thoughts kept being drawn to Lee Da Academy and the Dúshé village. They had no idea what was coming for them. Mei Ling and Great Master Viper might be warriors of legend, but the Master and his cult were monsters of nightmares. When they had finished eating, Po lay back onto the ground and set his bag under his head as a pillow. "We should go to sleep now," he said. "We have to get to Lee Da Academy as early as we can tomorrow, after all."

"Yes." Tigress said. "I'll take the first watch."

"Sounds good to me," the panda agreed. "Wake me up when it's my turn."

He fell asleep quickly, much faster than he'd thought he would with everything going on. But it was far from restful. He sat at the base of the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom, the afternoon sun burning bright overhead, and he knew it was a dream. These days, that tree was now just a sapling, renewing itself after the damage that had been done to it for future generations. He was staring out over the mountains, wearing his wide-brimmed cone hat and his simple, woolen cloak draped over his shoulders. The sweet scent of blossoms and the freshness of the mountain air wafted into his nostrils, and he smiled. The serenity of this place was not lost on him; even Oogway himself had chosen this particular place for a reason, although who could have said what went through the old tortoises head.

Po looked to his left and saw Monkey, Crane, and Viper sitting next to him, enjoying the beautiful vista with him. To his right stood Tigress with her arms folded, Mantis perched on her shoulder. They sat there silently, watching the blossoms drift lazily through the air down into the valley. More and more of the pink flowers were falling, swirling into a cyclone that drifted before the six assembled masters, but a feeling of unease was growing within him. He glanced at the Furious Five to see if they felt the same thing he did, but they were gone.

 _You are alone, now,_ a voice rumbled out from all around him, like unholy thunder. Po jumped to his feet, looking in all directions, and to his shock he realized the land itself was changing. The mountains began blackening, the verdant green on them withering to ashes, the rock itself melting. He stared down at his feet to see the soft grass was turning into long, rusty nails. The exact same type that he had been crucified with by that weird witch-doctor guy Dubaku. He let out a yelp of surprise and jumped back, onto the hill that sloped up to where the peach tree lay. It was gone now; large, twisted blades of iron took its place.

 _Your time is running out, little dragon._ The voice hissed. It sounded vaguely feminine, but the raspy tone spoke to him of much older horrors from a time when genders were unheard of and time was not yet recognized. _For you bear my mark, the mark of pestilence, the mark of the Seven Evil Gods. I am the last of my kind, cast from the gates of Irkalla, from the place where the dead live. Now it is but a tomb, yet I remain. Your little world is but a farce, built upon the blackened bones of Those Without Names. Your blood is mine, little dragon. My curse will carry on to all of your children, and the Mark of the Ancients that you bear will feed Their hunger. I shall remake this world in my image, and the Seven Evil Gods will awaken once more... and when they do, your world will never be the same again._

He suddenly felt as though he couldn't draw a single breath. At the top of the hill, he saw... _worms_ , like the ones that the Master had had feed on his flesh and blood. A grotesque mass of them, ten paces high, moving and seeking life. They coiled, seemingly blind, but slithered with deadly purpose that was beyond their mindless appearance. Towards him, he realized, but he felt paralyzed. Then the mass undulated, and he saw a familiar face in there, trapped and with a frozen expression of twisted agony on his visage.

"Monkey." He choked out, but the word felt funny in his mouth, as though it wasn't his voice he spoke with. As the abominations slid down the hill towards him, he noticed the light being sucked out of the sun, the worms drinking it to sustain their own vile hunger. As the pile became more of a river, he saw more familiar corpses. Oh no... there was Crane, his body twisted and broken. Viper's corpse slid out of the worms, only to be consumed by the tide once more. He saw a flash of green that was Mantis, and Shifu's torn and bloody corpse was visible for a split second as the encroaching river parted.

"No..." he said, and in that moment, his heart stopped. Tigress's corpse emerged from the writhing stream mere paces away, her stricken face staring out at him, accusing. "No!" he shouted, struggling to his feet. The ground sank as he put his weight on it, like a bloodstained morass. He fought his way to her, kicking the slimy worms as they lazily coiled around his arms and legs, and he fell to his knees and picked up his friend's corpse under her shoulders and lower back

"Tigress," Po said, his voice choking up. "Tigress, say something. Please..." He stared at her face for a long moment. There were no signs of life. He looked up and saw that the mass of worms had parted, and the six corpses of his friends and mentor were around him, their bodies ravaged by the hungry fiends. Their blood stained the ground, but the sky had grown so dark that he could only tell by feeling it on his knees. He raised his head to the void of the sky and howled his loss to the world.

"They're lost to you." A raspy, guttural voice said in front of him. Po stopped and looked forward. The Master stood there so close he could reach out and touch him, his ghastly face leering down at him in its dreadful rictus grin. His torn black robes fluttered as though a breeze was present, but the panda felt no wind. The worms withdrew and surrounded their master, coiling around his arms and legs, slithering through the gaping holes in his robes, where he could see exposed ribs that were yellowed with age.

"You can't save them, panda. The final knell of this world has been rung, and your friends will be the first sacrifices to ancient gods that have been dead for millenia. We are omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient, and we will root out your kin no matter where they may hide and feast on their remains." The Master spoke with prophetic conviction, his noctilucent eyes glowing with a sickly yellow light. He stepped forward, and the worms that were still squirming on the ground parted to form a clear path for him.

Po jumped to his feet, intent on crushing this monster into dust. This Master was going to pay for what he'd done, and now that he wasn't nailed to a piece of wood he was going to be the toll collector. With a roar of pure rage and loss, the panda charged the madman and threw a wild, heavy punch at the mountain goat's face. In the moment, he'd completely forgotten all of the harsh skills that had been drilled into him by Master Shifu; he just wanted to see the Master die.

His fist collided with his adversary's decaying skull, and as soon as he made contact, a wave of darkness shot up from the ground. It was the worms, extending vertically with a speed and purpose no mortal creature could hope to match. Two wrapped around each of his arms at first, then more, and then he was completely entangled by the slimy creatures. He glared hatefully at the Master, who didn't even seem remotely bothered about taking a hard blow to the face. The mountain goat stared at him with those eerie yellow eyes, his head slightly cocked.

"Amusing." the Master said flatly. "You presume to challenge me with nothing more than fists and rage? You, the chosen one, the one who is to be my greatest enemy? The Ancients chose poorly, placing their Mark upon you." He stepped closer and cupped the panda's chin with his yellowed hoof-fingers. They were much colder than a living creature's would be. "It is time." The skeletal mountain goat said, and stepped away. Po realized that the Master was fading out, becoming one with their nightmarish surroundings.. "You're already too late, my little panda. This eon draws to its end, and the Dark Prophet isn't here to save this world from my hunger. And you, you, little dragon, are a poor substitute for a hero." As the Master faded from this world, the worms that bound Po spat out their conical mouths, lined with barbed fangs, and buried them into his right arm.

The pain wasn't easier this time. Po screamed, and screamed, helpless to act. He heard a female voice, yelling one word over and over, but he couldn't discern what she was saying. Then it dawned on him that the one word she was yelling was his own name. His eyes shot open, and he was no longer in that twisted parody of the Peach Tree hill. Tigress was crouched over him with one paw raised, about to slap him to wake him up. Concern was written in her eyes.

"You screamed in your sleep," Tigress said, and Po jumped up unexpectedly and hugged her. "You're alive!" he exclaimed. When he released her, he saw that she had a confused expression on her face. She looked truly taken aback at his response to seeing her.

"...yes?" she said, not knowing how to respond. The panda looked past her and saw that the sun was just beginning to come up, a white line beginning to make its appearance over the treetops. He had slept through the night. He rubbed his eyes, and looked at Tigress again, who met his gaze evenly. "Why didn't you wake me up for watch?" He asked her, and she looked away as though embarrassed.

"I... may have fallen asleep." Tigress said, then looked back at him. "What did you dream about?"

"Who says I was dreaming?" Po said, not really wanting to share with her what had happened in that dark world.

"Like I said, you screamed in your sleep," she said, raising one eyebrow, waiting.

"Right." He'd forgotten about that. Po shook his head, trying to clear away the last cobwebs of the nightmare. Some things were better off forgotten. "We need to get moving. Crane's probably already reached the academy now. We're running out of time."

Tigress narrowed her eyes at his clumsy attempt to dodge her question, but couldn't argue his point. She nodded, then stood up and grabbed her pack. Po wiped his eyes with the back of his right hand, glad that she didn't press him any further, and got some kind of liquid in his eyes. He frowned, rubbing whatever the fluid was away with his other hand, and his fingers came away red and sticky. His eyes widened, and he looked at his right arm. From his hand to his elbow were several bleeding holes, where the worms had bitten him in the nightmare.

…

 _The next morning_

"How many are missing?"

The small bearcat servant gulped nervously, before attempting to unroll the scroll between his short fingers again. The skittish binturong Zìháo had served Great Master Viper for two years now, after the death of his father Qiángdù at the hands of some paralysing sickness. The boy was an efficient servant, loyal and intelligent, but his hands were shaking so much he could hardly get the scroll open. Great Master Viper waited patiently as he stared out the window overlooking the Dúshé village.

Finally the bottom of the scroll hitting the floor announced that Zìháo had gotten it open. "Four villages, each with a population of 200 to 400 people each, not including the Kung Fu masters sent to investigate the disappearances. Almost no signs of a struggle, no bodies, and nothing stolen but the villagers, and no trail, either."

Great Master Viper sighed, rubbing the tip of his tail over his temples. He'd first heard of the villages going vacant four weeks ago, when the first one had vanished. He'd sent two of the masters he had under his command to see what they could find out, but after the first report telling him they'd arrived at the abandoned village, he received no further letters. Then the next village had gone away, and then the next one, and now he was receiving word that a fourth village had shared the same fate.

And that damn monkey over there was giving him the creeps.

Out in the streets, attentively fixated on tying lines of string into the clotheslines, the simian hung by a few fingers from the top of the posts. He'd been at it all day. Great Master Viper had never seen a monkey that looked like this before. His fur was all stark black, with a face that was strikingly white. He couldn't see his facial expression from here, but he imagined it would be as odd as his wardrobe. He wore a coat that hung down almost to his knees, with a top hat and breeches, all just as black as his fur. Despite the distance, the serpent could see that they were of high quality. A nobleman, perhaps? Definitely not one from China.

But it wasn't just the monkey that made him as nervous as he was. It was the four bodyguards who stood at the base of the post he was currently tying strings to. Two rhinos, two water buffaloes, dressed in bamboo armor that the snake had seen on mercenary groups before. They looked like they meant business. Their spears and tridents were held at the ready, as though daring the townsfolk to attack their charge.

"All in all," Zìháo continued. "Roughly one thousand have gone missing."

One thousand. One thousand innocents just gone in the blink of an eye. Great Master Viper had never heard of such a thing in all his years. "What's in the rest of the scroll, Zìháo?" the serpent asked. The binturong looked down, carefully reading the hanzi in the second half of the lengthy rice paper. "Just investigative information, but nothing more than theory, it seems. Oh... wait. Listen to this. Apparently the Emperor himself has taken an interest in these disappearances. He's delivered a direct order to the Jade Palace to investigate."

The old snake's breath caught in his throat. His daughter. She lived at the Jade Palace. He whirled around to face Zìháo. "Who was dispatched?" He demanded. The binturong flinched back from his master's intensity, but continued on regardless.

"Just four of the Five. It says here that... well, it says that those who were sent to investigate were Masters Crane, Monkey, Mantis, and... and Viper, led by Grandmaster Shifu." Zìháo hesitated a bit on the last one. He knew as well as anyone that his daughter was in the Furious Five. "The Emperor has yet to receive a report, but they were only sent the day before yesterday. A report on what... what they found isn't expected for at least a week."

Great Master Viper forced himself to calm down, utilizing the ancient breathing techniques passed down from his dragon ancestors. The reason why they were passed down was not only to preserve the elder traditions, but because they were effective. Within moments his heart rate had slowed and the logical side of his brain took over. Viper was a trained Kung Fu master, and she was accompanied by four other masters, including the legendary Shifu. She would be alright.

 _Unless if this is nothing mortal techniques can stand against._

Great Master Viper was surprised by the voice. He looked around everywhere, to every corner of his simple, if not spartan room, but no one was in there besides him and Zìháo. "Did you hear that, Zìháo?" He asked. The binturong gave him a confused look. "Hear what, master?" he asked, cocking his head. So it was only him who heard the mysterious, raspy voice that came from nowhere. The snake shook his head, dismissing the thought.

"Nothing." Great Master Viper said, turning his attention to the top hat wearing monkey who had leaped from one clothesline to the other, several long strings in tow. Trying to change the subject so his servant didn't think he was mad, he asked "do you know what that monkey out there is doing.

Zìháo smiled, and nodded. "The Puppet Master, he calls himself. I talked to him earlier, before I came here. He says there's going to be a show this afternoon that the people of this village will never forget!"

"Never forget, hm?" Great Master Viper murmured. "Sounds... interesting." Why the sudden flash of fear?

"Oh, yeah," Zìháo said, nodding vehemently. "He's even showed me a couple of the puppets he uses. They're the most realistic puppets I've ever seen! He said that he could even make a puppet based on me, and everything! Not only that, but he isn't charging any price for his show! _Anyone_ can attend for free."

Great Master Viper narrowed his eyes at the monkey who was busily tying strings to the clotheslines. "No charge? I'm assuming you're asking me for the afternoon off."

The binturong suddenly shifted awkwardly. "Um... if... you know, if that's okay with you."

Great Master Viper allowed the hint of a smile to touch his face. "Perhaps. Why don't we go down to meet this Puppet Master?"

"Right now?" Zìháo looked surprised. "Of course, master! Please, please, please..."

"Calm down. Come with me."

Without another word, Zìháo followed Great Master Viper as he turned and slithered away through the house. Great Master Viper had never been one of ostentatious tastes; his home was small, located at the top of a hill just outside the village. The only decorations were the elaborate designs on the rice paper walls. It was a humble home, as one should expect a master of Kung Fu, although the serpent knew of many who chose to live in wealth while those they'd sworn to protect starved beneath them.

It was beautiful out today, just as it had been yesterday. Just as well, thought Great Master Viper. All the rain they'd been getting recently had flooded some of the low-lying villages, or so he'd heard. Some of the masters that he led had gone to help with that, leaving his resources spread out too thin to do a real investigation of the missing villagers. Thankfully, with the sun out so bright, his warriors have reported the flood waters beginning to recede. Oddly enough, though the sun was shining bright, the land around him was cast in shadow.

The villagers parted for him as the two of them passed with respectful bows. Great Master Viper was much-loved among the people of this village; though he had lost his fangs and needed to employ a few other Kung Fu masters to assist in keeping watch over the villagers, they hadn't forgotten how much good he had done here. Most had even forgotten how old he was really getting.

The guards- thugs in guards armour, clearly- glared at him as he approached the Puppet Master. Great Master Viper met their gaze evenly until they looked away. "You up there!" he called to the black-clad monkey. The Puppet Master looked down and stared at him for a second, expressionless, and then jumped down.

"You must be the legendary Great Master Viper." the monkey's voice had a strange accent, and yet was as monotone and cold as the rest of his face. "It is truly an honor to perform at your village. My name is Sârmă of Wallachia, though most simply call me the Puppet Master. I travel the world, performing and bringing joy to all who see my show. Will you be present this afternoon?"

"I believe so." Great Master Viper didn't like this guy. All of his internal alarms were blaring in his mind. There was something wrong with Sârmă; he needed to keep an eye on him.

"Excellent." A mechanical smile spread on his face. He didn't look right with this expression. "I want you to see it. I am the greatest Puppet Master ever to have lived, if I do say so myself. You see, my friend, I just want to spread joy wherever I go. From what I have seen so far, it is needed in these times. Ah, young Zìháo. I didn't see you there. I trust you will go too?"

The binturong nodded enthusiastically. He clearly didn't get the same bad feeling about the monkey that Great Master Viper got just being near to him. But the Puppet Master was being friendly, so there was no need to get ready to fight at the moment.

Another slight smile. "Good. Good, good. I promise you it will be wonderful. Dare I say legendary? I am sure you will not be disappointed." The way he said the last sentence sent a chill through the serpent. Zìháo didn't pick up on it.

"I will be there as well." Great Master Viper promised. He needed to see what this monkey was up to. Sârmă smiled when he turned towards the master. He held the same smile for a moment, then turned around and leaped back up the post and began to resume tying the strings. "I can't wait to see this!" Zìháo burst out. "You're seriously going to go too?"

Great Master Viper nodded, but said nothing more. Perhaps he should patrol the village, to see if there was anything amiss. After dismissing his servant, he cast one last look at the Puppet Master and left, keeping his eyes open as he patrolled the village. He didn't know what this monkey was up to, but his instincts told him that Sârmă's presence here could only bear ill will.

…

The young corsac fox took a ready fighting stance with his staff, the sun reflecting off of his gray and white fur. He looked determined to be victorious, but there was a slight doubt in his amber eyes. His stance was nearly perfect in form, but he seemed a little shaky, one of his hands trembling almost imperceptibly. But not to his opponent, an Asian golden cat, who stood there patiently awaiting the attack.

The fox struck forward with the staff, which the feline easily sidestepped, hitting the canine in the front of the knees with one half of her weapon. As he nearly fell forward into his adversary, she whirled her staff around and hit him in the back of the head with it, but she pulled the blow to avoid any injury. He toppled past her, and she was on him in a split second as he tried to turn over, putting the edge of her staff to the fox's throat. He waited for a moment, breathing hard, until she pulled the staff away.

"Worse than last time, Ri Chu." Mei Ling said, holding out a hand to help her pupil back to his feet. "But at least you didn't piss yourself this time. Let's try that again. Try to hold your right foot a little more to the left next time. Your balance was a bit off when you attacked too; that's why I knocked you over so easily. Now, go."

Within three seconds, Ri Chu was lying flat on his back, trying to catch his breath after having it knocked from him yet again. Mei Lin left him to practice with the other trainees and turned back to Master Crane, who had been standing and silently watching the show. When she went over to him and stood next to him, his grim expression told her what he was about to say.

"They could be here any minute." Crane said to her. "Are you sure you shouldn't be evacuating the younger trainees to somewhere safer? This place is next in line on the cult's warpath."

Mei Ling waved to the academy around her, to the dozens of students practicing both with and without weapons. "Somewhere safer? Safer than a Kung Fu academy with high stone walls? If we sent them out now, then they'd be exposed. If we all went with you to the Jade Palace, then we would be much more vulnerable to an attack."

"I don't think these walls would be much protection against them, Mei Ling. The Dragon Warrior and Master Tigress are on their way to assist, and even they were almost killed by just one of the cult. Two of the strongest masters in China, and they were hard-pressed to even _survive_ an attack. Trust me, you need to evacuate the academy. Shifu's already sent his report to the emperor, and asked him for reinforcements. Even _Shifu_ is afraid."

Mei Ling sighed, then gestured to the small meditation hall, urging him to go there with her so they could talk more privately. Despite its small size, the hall was quaint and invoked a sense of peace. It was empty now, though, with the feline having ordered all the recruits to focus on fight training in these circumstances. Two dozen meditation mats were set up in a half-circle around a small altar with nothing but a gold incense burner. None of the many sticks in the ornate bowl were lit.

"It's a shame our reunion couldn't have been in happier times." Mei Ling began, awkwardly. She was overjoyed to see her old friend again, but that joy had been fouled by the warnings of doom he brought. "I've heard of those disappearances, and noticed the lack of any activity on the roads. I would have gone to investigate them myself, but I have an academy full of students to train. I've set up almost the entire guard on the walls with crossbows and longbows, and I've ensured that the gates are locked and barricaded. That's the most I can do now, because I'll get in trouble if I abandon my duty."

"Is your 'duty' more important than the lives of all these people?" Crane pressed. Mei Ling narrowed her eyes at him, peeved that he would even suggest such a thing. But she saw where he was coming from. She would love to go with Crane to the Jade Palace and make up for all the time lost, but she couldn't. She wasn't just the star pupil anymore. She ran the entire academy, commissioned by the Son of Heaven himself.

"No." she said, choosing her words carefully. "I care about all of them as though they were my children. But Lee Da is a high-profile training academy. We've trained some of the greatest Kung Fu masters in China, and many of them have become some of the emperor's most trusted honor guards. Others have even become members of the Furious Five." She winked at him, and he looked away. She took it as embarrassment. Her voice went serious again. "If I just pack everything up and leave with all of these recruits, it will be seen as treason. I might have Lord Xinheng paying me a visit for my execution. The emperor's done it for much less."

"Wouldn't the emperor rather the academy and its prospects still be alive? This cult is no joke, Mei Ling. I've seen only two of them so far- a leopard named Dubaku and a gorilla behemoth named Shi Renzu. It took _four_ of the Furious Five to best Shi Renzu, and even then, it was close. Please, Mei Ling."

She rubbed her face with a sigh. For the hundredth time, she wished that they were little more than teenagers again, when she didn't have such pressing responsibilities and they two of them had been able to spend as much time together as they wanted. Looking back, she realized, those were the happiest times of her life. "You've come a long way from the nervous janitor who kept refusing to try out for the academy."

"We've both changed a lot, since we last met." Crane agreed, stepping closer to her. His eyes were staring into hers with a deep intensity. "And it was because of you, you know. Because I listened to you. So please listen to me now. Whatever the cult is planning, it's going to be huge. They have an army of mercenaries. They have demons fighting for them. All of China is going to be in danger, and with the emperor taking an interest in this, I imagine that all Kung Fu masters are going to be enlisted for war. By then, it might be too late for us to make a difference. We need your help at the Jade Palace, and Shifu thinks that we have something they want, hidden somewhere. Please. We need all the allies we can get, and maybe we'll be able to stop them before anything worse happens."

Mei Ling let out a great sigh, then turned away from the avian, walking over to the altar with the unlit incense bowl. She could feel his eyes following her as she put a hand on the simple tablecloth that covered the altar. She didn't know what to say to him, but she felt that every word he'd spoken was true. Mei Ling had had a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach for the past few weeks, though there had been no real reason for it until Crane arrived a couple hours ago. She'd thought it was just her imagination, then, causing her to feel as though the shadows were much darker, even on a clear afternoon, and that some powerful force was watching them from places no mortal would ever belong.

And what of her responsibilities as the head trainer, here at Lee Da? Crane was right that she could simply fulfill them at the Jade Palace until the cult was defeated, and it would certainly improve their chances at surviving, if the cult was as dangerous as Crane described. And she trusted the avian; they probably were. If she sent a letter to the emperor, explaining her relocation and the reasoning behind it, then surely he wouldn't send his shadowy executioner Xinheng to give her the 'Death by a Thousand Cuts' treatment.

Mei Ling could do it, too; she had a goose messenger who had delivered messages to the imperial city before, and his flying speed made her wonder if he was part falcon. He could deliver the message to the emperor before he found out that she'd left and taken all her students with her. Plus, she could spend more time with her old friend. The feline heard the slight clicking of claws on stone and she remembered that she had yet to give Crane an answer. He put one of his great white wings around her shoulder, and she turned around and hugged him, hard enough that she felt the breath whoosh out of his lungs.

"I'll go." she whispered into his feathers, not caring that they tickled her nose. She let go, and turned away from him. "I need to send a message, though. To the emperor. But I'll order everyone to pack up after. We'll leave within the hour."

"Thank you, Mei Ling." Crane said. "We might even meet Po and Tigress on the way back. They were coming here too, to lend assistance against the attack when it came."

"You're that certain that they'll come, huh?"

"They were intent on hurting members of the Five by killing people close to them. Thankfully, in his ineffable wisdom, the Dragon Warrior only gave two names. Yours, and Great Master Viper's."

Mei Ling frowned. "How did the Dragon Warrior know who I was?"

"Trust me, when you meet him, you'll find out."

"Sounds... fun?" She honestly had no idea what he meant by that.

"You should get to writing that letter. Hopefully they won't attack anytime soon. Oh, and Mei Ling?" Crane said her name as she was walking out the door of the meditation hall, to go to her chamber and begin the letter. She turned around and cocked her head questioningly at him. "Yes?"

He was staring at her intently, his beak open as though he was going to say something. Then he seemed to decide better against it. "Nevermind. Just get that letter sent out, alright?"

Mei Ling nodded, knowing there was no absolute way in hell that's what he was originally going to say, and left him in the meditation hall. She frowned as she stepped out of the cool, dark building. The sky was clear, and yet it seemed as though its light hardly touched the earth. This wasn't her imagination. Feeling a sudden sense of urgency, she picked up her pace, until she slid open the rice paper screen door that led to her private chambers.

Her room was simple; the only furniture being a bed and a table, upon which was set an inkwell and a calligraphy pen, and a box underneath that housed blank scrolls. Mei Ling strode over to the table and grabbed one of the blank scrolls, unrolled it and crouched down on one knee (she didn't even have a chair) and picked up her pen. She dipped it in the inkwell, and held it over the paper, contemplating on how to word the message.

 _Your Holy Highness,_ she wrote down, then rubbed her temples. She needed to be careful with this, and give her reasons clearly.

 _We at the Lee Da Academy have reason to believe-_

BOOM!

Mei Ling jumped at the sound of a massive explosion coming from outside, spilling the black ink all over the scroll. Ignoring it, she dropped her pen and threw open the door, running out to be greeted by the sun that was shrouded by an invisible force. But it wasn't that that turned her blood to ice. It was the scene of carnage that was lain out before her. The massive, iron-and-wood gates were in shambles, only small splinters of wood and melted slag gripping to the broken hinges. The entire training area was covered in wooden shards- some of which were as tall as she was. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw that some of her students had been hit by the splinters and were clutching their bleeding injuries and moaning in pain.

 _What the hell was that?_ Mei Ling frantically thought. That kind of explosion reminded her of the stories she'd heard about Lord Shen's deadly cannons, which could turn anything into a puddle regardless of combat skill. She ran forward and knelt by one of the trainees, a young male wolf that had a metal sliver a few inches in length sticking through his arm. It didn't look good. It was embedded pretty deep, and with the location of the injury, it could be fatal for her to pull it out. There was a flutter of wings beside her, and she looked up to see Crane standing there.

"They're here already." He said breathlessly, a panicked look on his face. "We're going to have to fight our way out of here!"

"He's hurt." Mei Ling jerked her head down at the injured wolf, who had one hand wrapped around the metal that had impaled his arm and was whimpering pitifully. He tried to pull on it but the feline stopped him. "Don't." she told him. "It might have pierced an artery. Pulling it out might make you bleed to death. We need to get you to the healer."

Of course, they were also under attack, so that wasn't a very likely possibility. They had a healer in the academy, as bad injuries here were no rare event, but there were others injured. Maybe even fatally.

"My, my, my. And you said you didn't think I could be subtle, Ch'rell." Mei Ling turned her head up at the sound of the female voice. Under the archway where the gates had once stood, were three figures silhouetted against the dust that was still floating around from the explosion. The middle one was clearly female, judging from her figure, although she couldn't tell the species from the dust. To her right was a tiny silhouette whose long ears gave it away as being a bunny, so small it had to have been a child. To the female's left stood a much taller figure than her, wearing a long voluminous cloak that made it impossible for Mei Ling to tell gender or species.

Then the figures stepped forward into the confines of the academy, heedless of the destruction that surrounded them. The person in the middle- the female- was a beautiful albino she-wolf with striking white fur and eyes the color of fresh blood. She was clad in a red dress that went almost to her ankles, and sleeves that covered her fur to the wrists. She was smiling, a chilling grin that could cut through the strongest armor, and she walked forward in an almost seductive manner.

The little bunny- Mei Ling had been right in her assumption- was just a child who couldn't be older than nine. He wore a simple burlap shirt and pants, the kind a peasant would wear, and otherwise would simply look like another bunny child if it weren't for the fact that his eyes and lips were stitched shut. The corners of his mouth were slightly turned upward, straining the stitches, as though he were trying to smile.

The third figure, the tallest one, was a wolf as well, but a male, his fur blacker than a starless night. A long black cloak covered him from head to toe, the bottom brushing against the ground, but Mei Ling could tell that underneath he had the muscularity of a powerful warrior. A deep, spacious hood was pulled low over his face, his muzzle the only thing that allowed the feline identify his species. A pair of glowing red eyes shone ominously from beneath the cowl, sweeping over the assembled students, who had gone into fighting stances and pointed whatever weapons they were carrying at the intruders.

 _What the hell happened to the lookouts?_ Mei Ling wondered, quickly scanning the walls. None of the lookouts were there.

"My name is Tabula Rasa." The albino she-wolf said. Her voice held a faint accent that the golden cat couldn't identify. "These two are my colleagues, Mèng, and Ch'rell. We have come to slaughter each and every one of you and bathe in your blood."

Mei Ling stood up, feeling a stab of rage jolt her into action. "So you're the ones we've been expecting. I thought there would be more of you."

Tabula Rasa's eyes met hers and the she-wolf's smile widened, the tips of her razor-sharp fangs showing between her lips. "You must be Mei Ling, yes?" she said, although her expression told Mei Ling she already knew the answer. Her red eyes moved over to the left and picked out someone else next to her. The feline looked and found herself staring into the side of Crane's face, who was staring at her with wide eyes.

"Master Crane." Tabula Rasa almost purred, giving a mocking bow in the Kung Fu style. "I saw you in Jiang. Sure is a pity that you weren't able to save them all, yes?"

"We saved most of them." Crane said, narrowing his eyes at the she-wolf. "We'll make sure you don't take anymore."

"But can you stop us?" Tabula Rasa's eyes glowed, and some of the blood that had been spilled on the ground from the flying shards of wood began drifting into the air, forming a red mist. "You see, Masters, you are champions of this backwater country. You have fought some of the most dangerous criminals this world has to offer." The blood began spiraling around her like a macabre vortex. She smiled, softly, endearingly, as though the gypsy were trying to comfort him. "But you have no chance against us. For no one can stop oblivion."

A harsh crack reverberated through the air and the blood that was floating around her solidified into several long spikes, as long as Mei Ling was tall. Tabula Rasa thrust her hand out and the bloody spears launched towards the feline and Crane with unnatural speed, heading straight for their hearts.

…

In dark, unhallowed recesses within the world, the Master sat upon his throne of blackened bones. Only a single torch lit the wide, cavernous room, casting eerie shadows over his cadaveric face. His head rested on one of his hands, the blood staining his hoof-fingers black in the firelight. He chuckled to himself, a sound like two rough stones grating against each other. About thirty feet below, at the base of a hill of ancient bones where he sat, was a large pool. It spoke to him, and though no mortal could see it, countless slithering, primordial shapes writhed just below the surface, urging him for freedom.

"Not yet, my friends." The Master whispered to them, rising from his throne. He trudged down the hill, causing bones to fall and splash into the unholy pool. "Our time is coming. Of that, there is no doubt." He grinned, letting his mind take him to the deeds his congregation were committing in his names. The Puppet Master and Shi Renzu were in position, as was Tabula Rasa and the child. The new arrival that the gypsy had recruited showed much promise, and he was eager to see what the black wolf was capable of.

The pieces on the board were moving against those at the Jade Palace, those who had his army imprisoned in a vessel of stone and runes. War was a game, a most strategic game, and he was winning. Dubaku was nearing his destination to begin the battle that would ultimately decide the fate of the game. One the Master would be joining the witch doctor in, to secure their victory. His grin stretched, becoming more ghastly in its countenance, and he knew that the corruption of mortal rule was coming to its end.

The Dark Prophet wasn't here to stop him, like last time. Oogway was dead, claimed by the spirit realm, and the Dragon Warrior was much too ignorant to unlock the secrets of the Mark of the Ancients that he bore within him- the Mark that the Chinese called the Hero's Chi. He put one foot into the pool, that his mistress Lamashtu dwelled within, and felt the icy chill of the Water-that-wasn't-water as it swept over his bones and fed Those Without Names- those who had given him godhead.

The Master spread his arms out and laughed maniacally, the horrific sound reverberating a thousandfold against the walls of his lair. As he laughed, his body faded away into the darkness, and he left the void to join his faithful servant Dubaku in the carnage.


	25. The Gypsy

_The canals of Venetia, even under Christian regime, always had a need for cunning folk._

 _Tabula Rasa was the most renowned of these so-called 'white witches', trained by her grandmother, who had raised her since she was just a pup. Some of her earliest memories were of dark, candlelit rooms with the strong scents of herbs permeating the air, of her grandmother instructing her on both the arts of Stregheria and wortcunning. She had been taught the deepest secrets of the Old Religion, forbidden parts which would have earned her a visit from the Inquisition._

 _Tabula Rasa had been born with the caul draped over her head like a hood, which was a sign of vast magical power in many cultures around the world. Combined with her albinism, her grandmother had always said that she had much more responsibility placed upon her than the average cunning woman. As a white witch, these responsibilities included being a healer, fortune teller, midwife, and in extreme circumstances, an exorcist. She had taken to the Old Religion naturally, and by the time she was fifteen, her skill, beauty, and kindness had drawn people with every imaginable ailment from even other countries to heal them. She was much loved by all those in Venetia, and even the most cynical of bastards treated her like family._

 _She had been happy then, she remembered. Tabula Rasa had never desired anything more than to carry on her ancestral tradition, which was integral to the survival of Stregheria. Indeed, there were fewer and fewer witches at the secret gatherings – Treguendas - every year, hosted beneath the canescent moon and outside of the Catholic Church's watchful eye. Those meetings had allowed her to truly cast aside the facade she donned to the populace of Venetia- the mask that she was a slave to God, who had done nothing for the world but bring suffering and death to millions. Even now, she could recall the freedom she felt after dropping all pretenses as she joined her fellow witches beneath the full moon, in communal feasts and dancing nude around a bonfire. She should have known that it wouldn't last, that these were the final golden days before the dark age._

 _When Tabula Rasa was seventeen, she had met a man- another wolf- who had stumbled to her very doorstep and collapsed there. She had been grinding some herbs with a mortar and pestle by the light of a single beeswax candle, a small amount of frankincense smoking in a tiny porcelain incense burner. Her mind had been utterly focused on her task- she was making a tincture to treat someone's inflamed knees, which caused incredible pain for them- occasionally casting a glance at the recipe in her book of shadows. Something had made her stop. Something that would change her life for the better, for a time at least._

 _She had gotten up from her chair with a frown, uncertain as to what this feeling was. It was as though an inner voice had whispered into her head to check the door. She'd gotten up from her workshop, not knowing what it was, but trusting her own intuition. When Tabula Rasa had opened the door, she'd gotten quite the shock when she saw the large wolf who was laying in the street, one hand touching her door as though he was about to knock but fell unconscious. He had a pool of blood around him and was in dire need of healing. In the middle of the night, no one else was up to see him as he bled out his life in the streets_

 _Tabula Rasa had been much too small to carry the much larger wolf, so she had had to run to her neighbor's house so they could help her. They were twin brothers, large bears who were as ornery as anything, but when they saw who was frantically knocking at their door, they accepted to help without hesitation. After the bears had lain down the wolf in one of the patient rooms, she immediately set to work, tying a tourniquet around his upper arm- his injury was a large slash from his wrist to his inner elbow- and then applying a poultice that would prevent infection. She stayed up for the rest of the night, doing everything she could do prevent his death,_

 _Tabula Rasa, at the time, couldn't explain why she was so determined to save his life. She had lost a few patients who were lost causes, which had devastated her, and this male had been bleeding for a long time. Logic would have said that he was going to die, regardless of what she could do. Yet she didn't give up; she exhausted every ability she had, both magical and mundane, until morning came and she was forced to go to bed, defeated._

 _When the next morning came, she was surprised again._

 _The wolf was sitting up in his bed when she came to check if he was still alive, perfectly coherent and with all memories intact. He introduced himself to her as Giovanni, and told her how he had been injured. He was a cunning man, like her, in a small rural village not far from Venice. He had been paid a visit by a ruthless cardinal known only by the name Giuseppe, a name Tabula Rasa knew well. He was a fanatical witch hunter, who kept trying to enforce an Inquisition to root out and massacre all cunning folk in Italy, and then the world._

 _Giovanni had been injured by the cardinal's deadly stiletto, but he'd escaped before he could be tied to a stake and burned alive, after weeks of torture in Giuseppe's dungeon. He'd dragged himself through the streets of Venice, until he found her shop and finally collapsed of blood loss. He thanked her for saving his life, and said that he would trouble her no more but Tabula Rasa refused to allow him to leave. She'd said he could tear open the stitches she'd so carefully put in to place, and that was true, but it was more than that. He intrigued her in a way she had never felt before._

 _When she allowed him to walk again, Tabula Rasa took him out to some of her favorite places in Venetia. She would never forget sitting with Giovanni and watching the sun set in glorious hues over the canals, of the midnight gondola rides. It only had taken a few months for her to fall utterly in love with him, and within the next year, after her eighteenth birthday, they'd gotten married. It was a massive wedding; it seemed as though all of Venetia attended. She couldn't remember ever being so happy in her life, as she trudged down the path with the one she loved more than anything._

 _When Tabula Rasa's grandmother had died, he had held her in his arms as she wept. When she had given birth to their son, he had never left her side. She had named their only son Aurelio, in honor of her father who had died when she was only two years old. She'd never given up her ancestral trade of being a cunning woman, and Giovanni hadn't either. They made for a very effective pair, and in the two years their marriage had lasted, this never changed._

 _Until Giuseppe the witch hunter found where Giovanni had been hiding._

 _The two of them had been given a rude awakening one night, when Tabula Rasa had been sleeping curled in her husband's arms. The sound of a door being kicked down destroyed the peace of their home, and the crying of their son had caused them to run to his room, where they saw the red-clad figure leaning over Aurelio's cradle, a stiletto in hand that Giovanni was more than familiar with._

" _Ah, greetings, Giovanni." Giuseppe said with a grin. He was a Pyrenean chamois, the ridiculous hat that cardinals wore making him look less intimidating than he should have. "Thought you could escape God's wrath, yes?"_

 _Giuseppe's knights had seized the two of them, and thrown them in a prison with their son, who was just over a year old. First thing in the morning, he dragged the three of them out to large stake his men had set up during the night. There were hundreds of people there, looking on, not moving to stop the mad cardinal. Tabula Rasa had screamed and tried to fight her way out of her chains as they brought her husband and son to the stake and tied them to it. She begged the crowd as the flames rose, but none of them made a move, none of them helped. They just watched, cold, uncaring, as those she loved most in the world were burned alive._

 _She never did figure out why Giuseppe spared her life, and at the time, Tabula Rasa didn't care. His knights dragged her, still weeping, to the cardinals dungeons where he tortured witches. For months and months on end, he had tortured her, raped her, shamed her, until her entire body was covered with long, bloody cuts. She felt none of it. She had gone completely numb to the pain- no, that was a lie. She had begun to enjoy the agony he brought her, knowing that it was only a matter of time before all he'd done to her would return to him a thousandfold._

 _One day- or night, maybe, who could say?- after Giuseppe had finished with her and left her in a pool of her own blood, she stared at the crimson that stained her white fur. She had grown to love the color red in the past few months she'd been tortured. It was the color of pain, of passion, and of hatred. Her grandmother's promise to her that she would have great magical power rang in her ears again. She got the idea to use blood as a weapon, as she'd heard of hemomancers in the past doing. For days, she tried to move the blood with nothing more than her mind, and eventually, she succeeded. When Giuseppe came for her again, she endured the torture with a smile. She learned to give blood shape, to freeze it into spears, to boil it into a weapon of agony, and a thousand other ways to murder._

 _She did this all without him knowing, and one day when he came to resume his sadistic pleasure, she was ready for him. Tabula Rasa killed both the knights who came with him, and then blasted Giuseppe back with nothing more than the force of her hatred. He'd hit a door that he often went into after he was finished with her in the past, and she followed him in. The sight that greeted her was the last one she was expecting. There were altars with dark sigils on them, and an entire alchemy laboratory filled with all sorts of esoteric contraband- likely taken from witches he'd burned._

" _This was why you did what you did?" Tabula Rasa snarled, advancing on Giuseppe as he crawled back, begging for mercy. "I hope that God grants you mercy. Because only the Devil looks upon you now." Then she put a curse on him, one she had been devising while he had his way with her. She slowly made his blood boil, gradually heating up until his screams played a glorious symphony and the flesh began the bubble and melt off of his bones. She turned and left the dungeon, but she knew that her revenge had yet to be complete._

 _Those who had once been her friends- those whose lives she had even saved, sometimes- who had watched her husband and baby burn without action, they all had to die. Her rage had become absolute, and she decided to use blood, their own blood, to give them unimaginable pain before Hell took them. She hid in a catacomb while she created the plague that would later become known as the Red Death. Tabula Rasa released the plague on the citizens of Venetia, and then began traveling all over Europe, spreading the Red Death wherever she went._

 _Tabula Rasa had a revelation, as she watched the people die choking on their own blood. It was the Catholic Church that had taken everything from her. Not just her, but for countless innocents, all to subjugate the world beneath them, under the guise of being an all-knowing, all-loving community that showed its compassion through genocide and torture. Death and agony would be the only reward they get for their zeal._

 _In a short amount of time, almost every town knew her face and had guards posted everywhere with orders to kill her on sight. They were no threat to Tabula Rasa, of course, but they would alert the people to her presence, and then they'd flee before she could spread her plague to them. Eventually, when on the road, contemplating on where to go next. She met a group of gypsies, who had faced persecution from the Catholic Church in the past, and joined them, taking on their flamboyant way of dressing and learning some of their tricks. Under the guise of a gypsy, she was able to sneak into many cities. When the guards gazes passed over them, all they saw were a bunch of gypsies, worthy only of contempt, but not slaying._

 _With them, Tabula Rasa was able to spread the Red Death all over Europe, killing millions. Only when she accidentally killed every gypsy that she traveled with (it wasn't her fault, she caught one of them praying to God), did she set out on her own. She began experimenting with all sorts of different magic systems. Intrigued by the fortune-telling the gypsies had taught her, she learned how to manipulate the very strands of fate for certain people, by tasting only a drop of their blood. She had become so powerful that any who stood in her way- or said a good word about the Catholic Church- suffered unimaginably painful demises._

 _But try as she might, she could never grow as strong as she desired. Her enemy was a massive beast with many heads, incredible power and all the wealth in the world. Even with as strong as her hatred and passion had made her, she couldn't stand against them alone. While the Red Death ravaged their territories, those who ruled sat behind thrones of gold, safe behind their riches and magical protection they jealously guarded against those they'd stolen them from. But They began whispering to her at night, beckoning her with promises of ruin and ancient, primordial wisdom. They haunted her dreams, and she realized that following the Nameless was the only hope she truly had to avenge her murdered family._

 _Tabula Rasa left Europe, never once looking back save to burn down a church with everyone still inside. Every day, they whispered to her, and she'd catch glimpses of the worms, Those Without Names, when the moon was full and smiling upon her. Where they were leading her, she couldn't have guessed, but she didn't care. Her vengeance was near, and when the time had come for her to mete out her retribution, the world will truly know her power._

 _Tabula Rasa smiled in anticipation, eager for the fruition of her destiny to reign in blood._


End file.
